Regeneratione
by Moon Witch '96
Summary: Hermione is no longer the brains of the Golden Trio, and she is no longer in her own time, thanks to the meddling of certain beings.She's been forced to live a new life in the past, and she has to make sure the future does not once again become what it was, at whatever cost. She has to do it for Harry's sake. She has too. Please Read and Review.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

Hermione felt her heart give a strange twist in her chest as the familiar scarlet engine left her eyesight, taking her Rose to the place that had made her life into the magical thing it was now. She smiled a little ruefully at the memory of her first train ride, remembering the way she had acted when she had first met Ron and Harry. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought that her little Rose was going to meet her own best friends, and was already so grown up. It seemed like just yesterday that she had held that tinny babe in her arms, and seen her blue eyes for the first time. Seen her first wobbly steps, or heard her say her first word.

"She'll be fine. Our Rose has your brain 'Mione... Thank Merlin... You'll see, she'll be bossy and nagging everyone soon enough, just like her mother. " said Ron cheerfully to her left, slipping his arm around her waist in an easy practiced movement.

She glanced to her husband with sad eyes, but still smiling all the same as she swatted his arm playfully. He gave a dramatic yelp and jumped backwards, a good five feet away from her. She heard the laughter of Harry and Ginny, and she turned to them, eying the married couple.

Harry's emerald eyes were a little sad, much like her own surely were. He was smiling at her and Ron's behavior, but the slight glitter in his eyes told her that he like her was wondering where the time had gone. He had always seen much of himself in Albus, and seeing him go off to Hogwarts would surely be hard for him. Little Lily was holding his left hand, her small digits curled lovingly around his large ones, and she was beaming at her father. Ginny stood to his right, her arm curled around his, a deep look of satisfaction in her eyes.

It was such an odd thing, thought Hermione to look at Harry now after all she had seen and done with him. He looked so at peace in a way that she hadn't ever seen him be. The war had been such a big part of his life, and when it had been over he had been so lost with both himself and his grief. Now seeing him nineteen years later in such a peaceful state made her wonder that if the war had never occurred would he be like this? If his parents had lived, would he had become the man he was now so much sooner?

It made her mad with the thought, and terribly sad at the same time. Like many times before in her life, she desperately wished that Lily and James Potter had lived. That they had been there for their son. That he hadn't been given that harsh path of destiny, that had been entwined with her's. That he had been spared the pain of his youth.

Hermione jumped out of her musings when she saw something from the corner of her eyes, something that made her heart freeze, and made her stomach drop. A man, a man with wild eyes and a snarling mouth was pointing his wand at Harry. Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood. She almost didn't have time to react when the man screamed out the words that she hadn't heard in the longest time. The words that she had hoped she didn't have to hear ever again.

"_**Avada Kedavra!**_"

She didn't think twice, the image of the smiling Potter family was still lingering in her mind, and she could just imagine what would happen to that image if Harry was gone. She was in front of Harry as if by magic, her arms wide, when the brilliant emerald light hit her in the chest with stunning accuracy. She didn't feel herself drop.

Or more honesty, she didn't feel her body drop. No, one second she was alive, the next she wasn't even sure what she was. She was still at King's Cross. She could tell that much as she heard Ron howl to her right, and again when she heard the screams of Lily and Ginny. But she didn't know what she was. A spirit? No, she wasn't visible, nor corporal in anyway she could tell, she just _**wasn't**_.

Twin stunning spells shot out of both Ron's and Harry's wands, hitting her murder straight in the chest, knocking him over as the rest of King's Cross started screaming. Chaos, could only be what she could call what she saw as she saw person after person disappear with a loud crack. An auror took the man away, with a curt nod towards Hermione's loved ones. Soon only few people remained in the once crowed station trying and failing to avert their eyes from a very private scene.

Her love ones were gathered around her body. Both Ginny, Lily and Ron stood at her sides, holding her hands as tears fell down their freckled cheeks. The formers sobbed quietly, their faces as pale as ash they held on tightly to her right side, trembling strongly. Ron was sobbing like a small child making the small noises that only a hurt animal should possibly be able to make, making her heart break at her beloved husband's wild mumbling of her name, begging for her to wake up. She wasn't sure what was worse, she thought, looking back and forth between her husband and her best friend.

Harry Potter, the Man Who Survived, was cradling her head in his lap as if it was the most precious thing in the world, as he too like her husband sobbed like a small child. It was crushing, it was simply horrifying to see the two people she loved in this world the most like this. Somehow, she found herself closer to Harry, the man that had made her into the woman she had been, and she somehow placed a hand on his shoulder. When he stiffed and looked up, Hermione found herself not at all surprised.

He was pale she noted, and his handsome face was drawn tightly in a face of disbelief, and surprise. As she looked on at his beloved face, Hermione felt no doubt that he could see her. She knew this was the last chance for her to ever talk to him, and somewhere inside her was screaming that she didn't have much time in this world, and that she only could say a few words. She was somehow crying, she noted, just like him, and she knew that she had to give him some sort of peace, and that she had to do it fast, as already she felt something pulling her away, trying to drag her out of the world of the living.

So with the most sincerest joy, Hermione Jean Weasley, nee Granger smiled at Harry James Potter, moving her misty hand from his shoulder to his cheek. She said the words that she felt where the most appropriate, considering all he had ever done for her, and what she knew would haunt him the least.

So like a whispering sigh her voice floated out, and she left Harry with the most sincerest thing she could think to say:

"_Thank you..._"

And the creature that was Hermione left the living world, leaving a howling Harry Potter behind. Off to the next adventure, and off to join the people that had left her long ago. She had no idea what was the real adventure that was in store for her.


	2. The Library

**Chapter One: The Library**

Hermione came to her sense very slowly, at first feeling the sharp intake of her breath as she gasped, the movement of her chest bring her truly into consciousness. Then, her other senses came to her very slowly, as if to ease her into being. The scent of soft jasmine eased into her nostrils, with the lightest hint of the strong and lively scent of freesia, she could suddenly hear a echoing melody of turning pages, and the steady beat of a far off drum echoed along with it, in a fast past that made her think of heartbeats. Then finally, Hermione opened her eyes with the utmost care, not flinching when the bright light entered her retina, and simply staring at the world around her in wonder.

She soon realized that she was on the floor, and when she moved to sit up, she noticed some thing else that made her cheeks warm. She was a bare as the day she had been born, and as she glanced swiftly around her, she noticed in dismay that she had no way to cover herself. She longed to be clothed... No sooner had she thought that, a flowing white dress appeared next to her, which she quickly slipped over her head, noting that it was one of the softest things to ever touch her skin, as the most easy thing to move around with. As soon as she was decent, she stood up and took a look around her, trying to get a bearings to where exactly she was.

She was, as far as she could tell, in a library. Dark shelves filled the large room, and dozens of books filled them, and dozens of small tables dotted the cobblestone room here and there. She soon found herself gasping at the fact that she knew which one it was, though, she mused somewhat wryly, that the Hogwarts library had never looked as clean and as spotless as it was now. The books where all in perfect condition, and the cobblestones beneath her feat where smooth and emitting warmth like a furnace. Light, shown down out of the windows, pure white and blinding to the point where she couldn't see outside, no matter how much she wished to catch a glimpse of the world. Not a single soul was anywhere to be found, and the usually occupied nest of the desk of Madam Pince was empty as the rest of the large room. Yet, she could still hear the turning of the pages, and the beat of that drum. Hermione felt she was alone as she glanced about the familiar room, that is, until she felt someone tap her gently on the shoulder.

She spun around as quickly as she could, reaching for the wand that wasn't there. As she noticed this, she stiffened, and prepared herself for whatever was to come. She wasn't prepared for, however for the person that was staring at her with eyes that made her feel as if she was still unclothed, as if those eyes could truly see all of her. They were black, yet they weren't, as she could see an inner light that shown with a deep, powerful radiance, and with a look that showed centuries of life. It made Hermione tremble, looking onto the deceiving youthful, pale face, which was beautiful beyond compare, and would even bring a veela to look away in shame.

"_Hello, my Anima._" whispered the being, her voice divine echoing with power, and snaking around Hermione, like chains, freezing her in place.

Somehow, Hermione could only squeak out an answer to the being, feeling her face flush in embarrassment. The being simply laughed, a strangely masculine sound, as it was husky and deep. She smiled at her, crimson lips stretching gracefully as she placed a pale hand on her cheek, which made Hermione shiver, as it was as if a ghost had touched her. The being looked at her with those black eyes, thoughtfully, a smile still on her blood red lips. After a moment of deep soul scorching, the being let go of her now numb face, spinning around in a effortless movement, her short raven and layered hair catching the white light of the windows, shining with a sliver radiance that reminder Hermione oddly of Harry's invisibility cloak.

As soon as she thought of Harry's belonging, Hermione sucked in a deep gasp her hands flying up to her mouth as tears quickly gathered in her eyes, as she remembered the almond emerald eyes that had looked at her with sorrow, guilt, and tears swimming in them. Her breath became shallow as she remembered the look and sounds of his family's eyes, and the little sounds her own husband had been making. It was then that Hermione realized that she was dead, and her loved ones had watched her die. And that she was never going to see their beloved faces ever again.

Her knees buckled, and she almost fell to the ground, but was prevented by two pale, and surprisingly strong arms that held on to her upper arms, guiding her to a spare chair. The arctic hands withdrew from her, and the being sat herself on the table itself, crossing her legs, which were covered in a black mesh netting, and high healed, leather, and scuffed boots. It was then that Hermione truly looked at her, taking in every detail of the being in front of her, trying to figure who in Merlin's pants she was, and what the hell she was doing here, and where exactly was here.

She was Gothic noted Hermione, her long red skirt was tartan, and ripped to such a degree that she knew that Minerva would be ashamed to see her native fabric in such a state. Her torso was covered in a black corset, which some how suited the being, despite the rather reveling nature. A golden ankh dangled from her long neck, along with dozens of other chains, and what looked like a dog collar. Tonks would have loved it sighed something off handily in Hermione's mind... She was still smiling at her, which made her notice that she had dimples, and that one of her black eyes held a swirling design of black liner underneath, which she doubted was makeup. She didn't know who this oddly cold and divine being was, so she did the only logical thing. She asked.

"Who are you?" she had meant for her voice to appear strong, and demanding, but somehow it only came out as soft as a sigh, sounding as if she was about to disappear any second.

"_Me? Oh, of course you mean me don't you_?" questioned the being, her masculine laugh once again drifting out, as she moved her choppily cut hair out of her face, the smile on her face growing.

Hermione nodded in conformation, trying not the get impatience with the being.

"_I have been known by many names Anima And I dare say that I will be known by many more... Like Mortem, which is the one of oldest... But, I guess to keep it simple, let's use the one I've been known to use for quite a while... My cararus, my sweet little Anima, I am Death, the guide of souls._"

Hermione stood flabbergasted, Death. _**Death**_ was in front of her. And she wasn't at all male as most had depicted her as, oh no, she was a female, and looked to be around in her early twenties. And she was Gothic to boot. Hermione felt the odd need to laugh, but instead she blurted the first thing that came to mind when she though of death:

" Did you really create the Hallows?"

At that the smiling being frowned, her glowing eyes dimming a bit as she nodded her head forlornly.

"_Yes I did. I gave it to the Brothers as a gift for helping me with a rather troublesome Anima. I still regret it. I never intended for the eldest of the two to use them like that... I'm glad that the youngest had sense. It was nice to see him again when he passed through, I'm glad he asked to see me before he moved on. It was rather sweet for him to do that._"

Hermione listened to Death with the utmost attention, wondering at the fact that she had just discovered the true origin of the Hallows. Death had really created them. And gifted them to the Peverells, not because of a built bridge, but because of a favor. Incredible...

"_Now that your curiosity has been somewhat taken care of, let's get down to business. Hermione, my Anima, listen to me carefully." _said Death, her old tone of slight flightiness, and cheerfulness turning serious.

Hermione snapped out of her musings, and gave her utmost attention to Death. By the look of worry on the being's face, she could tell that something was up.

"_You cannot pass on. You cannot, as hard as I try to make you go. Something is very wrong, by the living world's standard's you have been resting for about seven days. That is impossible. You should have been awoken on the first, and guided into the next path an hour within your death. As you can see, that has not happened. Even now, something prevents you from going on Anima."_

Hermione blinked at the information, she too surprised that she hadn't moved on. She considered the problem for a moment, before coming up with a solution.

"I'm awake aren't I? Why don't you try sending me on now?"

Death simply smiled a little ruefully.

"_You woke up before. I tried to send you on... And well it sort of knocked you out, which I still wondering if it's possible, as you don't even have a body. But, well, it happened..."_

Death shrugged as she said this, her pale face coloring slightly in her embarrassment. Hermione just took this news in silence for a moment, something within her panicking. She looked on the young woman that was Death, who looked younger than her thirty-seven years of age, and who was telling her that she couldn't move on, that she wouldn't be able see the people that had left her. Albus, Fred, Remus, Sirius, Alastor, Dobby, Severus, Cedric, Tonks and even the people that she had never met, Lily, James... How could she not see them? Why couldn't she see them? What would happen to her if she was stuck in limbo?

"What will happen to me?" she whispered to Death.

Death stared at her for a long moment, her red lips frowning. She once again reached out and touched her face, her arctic touch soothing Hermione slightly.

"_You are not entirely in bad hands Anima, I have consulted with my siblings, including the elder ones, you would call them the Fates, I suppose... They have told me that they have stopped your passing on... They said they set in motion something years ago that went horribly wrong, and that they hope to reverse it. But... They need someone to do it for them. They may have the ability to change time spaces, and to generally guide Anima through life, but they just cannot interfere once they have set something like that into motion. They hope to stop a man, a man that has already come into my possession, in many broken and wretched pieces..."_

Hermione's breath caught. She knew just exactly the 'man' she was talking about.

"Tom Marvelo Riddle..." she said, horrified at the thought of the horrible wretched monster.

Death nodded, patting her cheek soothingly.

"_Yes. They wish to stop him earlier in time. But to that they need someone to do so. They told me that they have been planning this from the second he failed to come to me when his first body was destroyed. They said that they have been watching the world of the mortals even now, and that they have come to a decision to who was going to stop him... Seven days ago, they chose you Anima. You will be born again in a place and time where you have a chance at destroying him..."_

It took Hermione less than a second to understand what Death was telling her. She was going to be reborn in the past. She was going to defeat Riddle, she was going to destroy him. Harry didn't have to. Harry was going to be spared. Harry was going to have his parents. He wasn't going to watch his loved ones die around him, for him including herself. He was going to grow up loved and nurtured like his brave soul deserved to be, he wasn't going to be Fated to face that monster. But she was. The Fates had spared another, only to send her in his place. Part of her wanted to be furious, part of her wanted to scream and rave that she didn't want this, that Riddle was already dead, that the Fates should just live with the fact that they had screwed up, and let her pass on and live her afterlife in peace. But most of her was seeing all the faces of the people that had died during the wars. The people that had sacrifice everything just to see that vile monster that had called himself a 'Lord' . That part of her was crying in sheer relief that her wishes in King's Cross would become true. Harry would be spared. Tears ran down her face as she once again pictured the emerald eyes of her brother in everything but blood.

"_There, There Anima, I know it is not a fate that is fair, but I cannot overrule the decision of my elder siblings so I can't make you move on, no matter how much I want to... But I can make sure you stay in limbo, if you like... I can make sure you are not reborn... You do not have to suffer Anima..." _said Death softly, rubbing soothing circles on her lower back.

Hermione looked up and straight into Death's glowing black eyes. She was giving her a way out, she could see that. Giving her a chance to stay in this room forever. To stay here and read to her heart's content. She could see it, really, spending forever in this room, with Death sometimes visiting to make sure she didn't go mad. It was so tempting to take up Death's offer. To just stay forever... But she couldn't bring herself to agree. She needed to follow Fates' plan. She needed to do it... For Albus, Fred, Remus, Sirius, Alastor, Dobby, Severus, Cedric, Tonks... For Harry. For... Herself. She shrugged out of Death's arms, and stood proudly in front of her.

"No. I'll follow Fates' plans... Just... Just let me take something from my life now into the past... Please?" she asked as softly as she could, tears running freely down her cheeks, as she felt that should get it all out now.

Death smiled to her.

"_You are a wise one child. What is it that you want to bring into the next life?"_

Hermione didn't even have to really think for that one. The thing she wanted to bring held many things within it, and would be her anchor, per say, in the unknown place she was about to be sent to.

" A beaded bag, very small, blue. It is very dear to me."

So dear in fact that it held all of her important things, from her favorite books, to relics of that faithful Horcurxes hunt. Once again Death smiled to her, a smile full a mischief, as if she knew how much that 'small' beaded bag truly held. With a snap of her fingers, the bag appeared in Death's hand, which she gave to Hermione without a protest.

"_Again, I say that you are very smart Anima, as well as sly... But I guess that is given... Now, I have two things to give you before I send you off child..."_

Again, at the snap of her fingers something came to Death, a ball of sliver light, which she held in her hands for the briefest second, before she sent it straight at Hermione, who accepted the ball curiously. As soon as it touched her skin, Hermione was rushed with memories, memories of someone that she loved. Fresh tears dripped down her cheeks as Harry's life played out before her, from the moment that Avada Kedavra had made James Potter fall, to the moment Harry had watched the Elder wand sail to his hand. Even the moment of her death was replayed for her, this time with the emotions of her brother.

"_That my siblings asked to give to you... This I give you myself..."_ with those words said, Death lifted the golden ankh from her neck, and placed it gently into Hermione's hands.

"_May your path be steady Anima, and may that ankh protect you in your tasks and mark you as a Ward of Death... That should prove useful once in a while... I shall pop in once in a while, as I seemed to have grown found of you, Anima. Good luck, for this Rengenratione will be a hard one." _with a quick kiss to the cheek, Death stepped back.

She snapped her fingers once more, and in her hands appeared a sliver scythe. Hermione automatically stepped back, wary of the weapon. At this Death laughed her mannish laugh, shaking her head in a way that made her short locks wave wildly with the movement.

"_Do not worry, it won't hurt Anima." _

And with a slightly manic laugh, the scythe came down, slicing into Hermione and making her flinch slightly at the sight of a large blade in her chest. She gave Death a look of annoyance, which caused her to laugh once again, eyes glowing so bright that they appeared white.

"_Go my little Anima, and head these words; You were never meant for the life in which you are going to. It is wrong, it is forced, but it must be done as decreed by the Fates. Do not forget that it is not your place to stay little one."_

And with those haunting words Hermione disappeared with a flash of white light, leaving Death, leaving the place that meant so much to her, and going of to an unknown time, never knowing that Death was crying for her, for she knew that her fate in the past would not be a happy one. Death could only hope that her siblings knew what they were doing.


	3. Awakening Anew

**Chapter Two: Awakening Anew**

For a second time unbeknownst to her, Hermione awoke, this time rather rapidly, her eyes snapping open muted light making her wince, and her hands automatically clutching tightly at the small bag in her right hand, feeling the silkiness of it, and the slight irritation of the delicate glass beads digging into her skin. She also felt the delicate chain of some sort of necklace in her left hand, and the strangely shaped charm that it held. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to even the little light there was, as it was rather dark, but she still couldn't see as much as she felt comfortable with. She felt the smoothness of silk under her cheek, and along with that the softness of velvet. In fact, that sensation was wrapped around her, and Hermione could tell, by the plush feeling beneath her, and by the rather medieval like canopy of sheer fabric above her, that she was in a bed. An expensive and antique bed by what she could tell... She was home, at least, that what her foggy memory told her, as she really had no idea what had happened within the last twenty-four hours, but at least she was home, in her bed, with what sounded like her husband snoring at her side.

She snorted with relief, snuggling happily into her bed, which she remembered badgering Ron into buying, as she had really feel in love with the ones she had used in her school days. She lingered in the warmth, sighing softly in pure delight at the fact that she was home. She had no idea why, but she was just so damn, bloody happy at the moment, despite the lost of memory. Maybe she had one to many drinks the night before, as she was sure she must have, as from what she could remembered, yesterday had been the days Albus and Rose would set off for Hogwarts. Which in turn, meant a insane grieving/celebrating party for her, Ron, Harry, and Ginny. It had started when Teddy had first gone away to Hogwarts, which had brought a whining Harry and Ginny Potter to their comfortable home with grief and a bottle of fire whiskey. It had been made a tradition for them to have a very hilarious and all around good time to drink away the slight taste of sorrow at seeing their children so grown up, yet happy taste to see that they didn't get the same rather sorry childhood that they had.

Hermione wondered briefly if Ron remembered more than she was remembering at the moment. and deiced to figure it out by rolling over and waking him up. However, much to her surprise and displeasure, when Hermione rolled over to the left, where her snoring husband traditionally slept, she found herself tumbling off a bed that was much smaller than she remembered. She hit the plush carpeted ground with a dull thump, a small gasp escaping her when her head hit the floor. She cursed silently under her breath, annoyed at the fact that she had fallen. She noticed faintly that she still had the beaded bag and necklace in her hands, as she turned scowling toward the person that was still snoring in her bed.

"Ron? Ron?" she hissed softly, squinting in the dim light, trying to make out the form of her sleeping spouse.

She expected a thin, tall, and firmly muscled man in his late thirties, vivid red hair speared about his pillow and face, which would surely be contorted in the relaxed mask of sleep, mouth wide open as he let loose those thundering snores. She did not except the wiry framed little boy with raven hair placed wildly around his pillow, his mouth slightly parted as he slept, his rather loud snores escaping him at intervals in tune with his relaxed breathing. It took all of Hermione's will power not to scream, as their was a strange child in her bed, but she soon relaxed as she caught a glimpse of the boy's pale face. She smiled softly at him, and wondered how the devil she and Albus had ended up sleeping in the same bed together. And, for that matter, what was he doing here and not at Hogwarts? She mused briefly if it would be best just to let him sleep, but thought better of it, as he would start his classes in a few hours, if she was reading the little light that was coming from behind the sheer curtains, that it was around five in the morning, which meant little Al only had around two hours to go to Hogwarts and get ready for his classes.

"Al? Al, sweetie, it's time to get up..." she whispered as firmly as she could to the sleeping form of her godson, which was truly two adorable, the way he curled up into a ball...

He merely groaned, snuggling deeper into the twin bed he was in, his hands underneath his face. Hermione resisted the urge to simply grab the quilt and tug, making him roll over and fall onto the ground, it was a way of rude awakening that she had formed into a habit with Ron, as he was the most stubborn sleeper. Instead, she merely reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently.

"Come one, get up, no time for games, Al..." she said a little more loudly, noticing that her voice sounded strangely a few octaves higher than usual.

This time, 'Albus' did wake up, opening his eyes and glaring straight into Hermione's now widening ones. The eyes staring straight at her were not that gorgeous almond shaped and dazzling emerald she expected. No, it was a round shaped, and beautiful hazel eyes that met her gaze. Hermione felt herself start to gape.

"'Mione, what's your problem? Last night I came in here because of the storm, not so you could wake me up at this time! And who in the Merlin's pants is Al?" asked the strange boy, voice a few octaves lower than her own high voice, his hazel eyes squinting slightly, as if he had trouble seeing her.

The boy then rummaged around for a moment, before shoving past the sheer curtains of what she now thought looked like a princess' bed, and snagging something off a small table on the side of the bed the boy had been sleeping in, with a start, Hermione saw the little boy of about eleven or ten shove on a pair of red horn-rimmed glasses, perching it with much ease on his rather long nose. He then turned back to her, raising his black eyebrows at her, scowling.

"What's wrong you 'Mione?" he asked after a moment, brows furrowed at her silence.

Hermione could only blanch, taking a shaky step back, eyes surly as wide as saucers at the little boy that was looked so familiar. A little boy that looked so much like an eleven year old Harry and Albus, save for of course his eyes, and maybe the fact that he had a slightly longer nose. She could only take another two more steps back when he took a step toward her, hand outstretched.

"'Mione?" he asked concern slipping into both his voice and face.

Hermione only kept taking steps back, as she had no idea why she was in this boy's home, or why the in the bloody Merlin's pants did he act like he knew her, much less using the nickname that she only ever allowed Harry and Ron to use. Or why the fact she felt a sort of dread come alive within her. She looked around slightly wildly as her back hit the wall, and she thought where was her wand? She needed her wand!

"Sis?" then asked the little boy, making her freeze in disbelief.

She looked up at the little boy, and could only really see Harry's and Albus' face. She looked past him, trying to find some way out of this situation, when she caught her reflection in a long and large mirror. It didn't really look like her, but she somehow knew that the pale and wide eyed girl was her. She was younger, way younger, _**too **_young, as she looked to be around the boy's age of maybe ten or eleven, not the thirty- seven years of age she should have been. She didn't even look like her eleven year old self, as she was taller and thinner. Her once tan skin was now pale as snow, not a single one of her beloved freckles in sight, and her hair was not in a bushy mane of brown, but rather a wild array of waist length locks of raven. Even her face was different, gone was the pretty and plain face that had graced her before, and in it's place a gorgeous face that looked like a china doll, complete with the wide, impossibly large blue eyes, and a small, plump, and pink mouth, that at the moment was open in slight horror.

And then, sort of like the effect of someone raising the flood gates, memories flooded into Hermione's mind rapidly, so quickly that it made her stagger with the sheer weight of them, as they held the most important tools of the survival of the world. A world, that she thought with much panic, clutching tightly at the beaded bag and ankh that Death had gifted her, that now rested on what she could now really see to look impossibly frail shoulders of a child. A child, whose brother was placing his pale hand on one of the shoulders that wore the weight of the world.

"Hermione?" asked the little boy, her brother!

Hermione really was in such a state and situation that even after all her years, couldn't help but panic. She had some idea what time period time the Fates and Death had sent her to, and though she felt something like injustice curling in her stomach at the fact that she was the one that was here, and not Harry, she had no time to dwell on that just yet, as she needed to get away_** now.**_ Which, she gladly did, brushing off her new brother's hand off with much ease, running past him and to one of the doors of the room, praising Merlin in her head when she opened it to reveal a hallway. Ignoring the shout behind her, Hermione ran, and ran. She ran rather blindly, going just as fast as her now shorter legs could carry her, moving as silently as she could, which she admitted was pretty silent as she had picked up a few tricks from Harry's memories of sneaking around the Dursleys' house as a child.

She found herself in a room that made her pause, where red and gold couches were scattered about, so she could only really guess that it was the parlor. Her breath came in deep ragged gasps, and her knees felt slightly gelatinous, as they trembled like mad. She looked around her, noting that the light was much brighter than it had been before, which meant it was much later now. She guessed around one hour had passed, and she wondered just how big the place was.

She sat down on one of the rather comfortable couches, feeling better after the long run, as it seemed to have cleared her mind. She paused for a moment, before shifting into a proper Lotus position, placing the bag and necklace into her lap and trying to calm down. She remembered somewhat randomly in her mind the time she had been convinced by Ginny to take up yoga with her at the age of twenty-one, of course Ginny had quit pretty early on never one to sit or stand still for a very long time. She had only attended two classes, or really one in a half as she had quit in the middle of class, flipping the instructor the bird muttering about crazy muggles and their flexibility and walking off her head held high. But Hermione had stayed because it had helped her focus incredibly well, and she had been practicing it since her early twenties, so it was really as easy as breathing to her. Now in one of the simplest of positions, she felt very calm indeed.

She had to admit unfortunately, that her legs felt a little sore after a few more moments, and she grimaced in dismay. She was very much used to do complicated positions, and the fact that her new body wasn't used to even the simplest of ones annoyed the hell out of her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and ignored the slight twinge of pain in her legs. She really stayed there for who knows how long, just sitting in her mental library of meditation, sifting through Harry's and her own memories, trying to find some sort of clue where she really was... Though she had a fair idea, Hermione felt it was better to do some internal research to make sure she wasn't just imagining that Death had made her be reborn in this household of all places. She didn't move for a very long time, the numbness in her leg muscles ignored, like the steadily growing brighter light around her. She only did move when someone screamed her old, yet new name:

"Hermione Ophelia Potter!"

Hermione jumped, part of her gaping at the beautiful, yet elderly woman in front of her, the other cringing at the infuriated look she was giving her. She suddenly felt ten times smaller under the woman's piercing dark blue gaze, that with a start she noticed was the exact same shade as her own.

"Mum?" asked Hermione softly, her tone filled with uncertainty.

The woman just huffed, eyes hard and filled with such an intense worry that Hermione was strongly reminded of Molly Weasley, her mother-in-law... Or, what she now supposed as her never-to-be-in-law, as she somehow doubted that she was going to marry her unborn son this time around. Hermione felt a pang at the fact that she wasn't, as she loved her husband incredibly so. She pushed that though roughly aside, because no matter how much it hurt her, at the moment, Mrs. Potter, her _**mother**_, was starting to barrel down on her:

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? James just came running into our room screaming like a banshee that something was wrong with you, and that you had run away! We spend hours looking for you, hours! _**Outside **_the house, and even got one of your daddy's auror friends to come help and find you! And where are you? Sitting inside the house calmly, in the parlor of all places! Hermione, love, do you have any idea what you just put us through? What's wrong, love!" demanded the woman that was her mother, eyes furrowed in deep concern.

Hermione remained silent. Her mouth was surly agape, and she felt herself trembling. Much to her horror, she felt tears gather into her eyes, tears that where hot and sticky, and tumbled down her face soon after they had gathered. The look on the face of the woman that was her mother soon turned to guilt as she saw her daughter bawling before her, her little body sobbing. Hermione couldn't really help it she suppose, as she curled up into a ball, fists grabbing at the relics of the things that proved her past. She flinched away from Mrs. Potter when she moved to hug her, scrambling off the couch and onto the floor, until she reached a wall, and stood completely still, her tears now silent.

"Hermione?" asked Mrs. Potter in shock, eyes wide at her daughter's insane behavior.

Hermione only shook her head, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.

"Beatrice?" asked a tired voice, elderly voice.

Mrs. Potter turned to the voice, aged face tired as she answered, one of her delicately veined hands coming up to move her snow white hair out of her face.

"William, we're in the parlor love!" respond back Mrs. Potter, Beatrice.

It suited her, thought Hermione. The name Beatrice suited Mrs. Potter... Her mother. It was odd, she thought a little randomly, she had always thought Amelia Granger would be her mother, but it wasn't so. The tall, lithe woman in front of her was now her mother. Beatrice Potter was her mother, this beautiful elegant woman was her mother... With a jolt Hermione realized she was James Potter's sister... Harry's aunt! Well, she thought with a slightly bitter sniff, she had always been a bit of a mother to him, an aunt wouldn't really to far off.

She was torn out of her musings as a man, William Potter her father, she supposed came in, a sullen James Potter trailing behind him. As soon as James caught sight of her, he gave an over joyed shout of "'Mione!"and proceeded to run over to her and hug her tightly around the waist. She sniffed, a little shocked at the amount of affection he was giving her. From the little she knew about siblings they weren't really affectionate toward each other if the Weasleys' where an indication, as they mostly showed their affection through words and through physical jabs... Though, Hermione mused, last time around James Potter had been an only child, so maybe this was an echo of that James' need for companionship... Or she thought with a wince as he hugged her tighter, the Potters where simply really touchy feely. He pulled back after a moment, brows furrowed.

"You okay 'Mione?" he asked, whispering.

Hermione thought for a moment. Was she okay? She had said yes to this whole mess, she had agreed to this madness, she really had. But, was she okay with the situation in general? Was she okay with having to relive the horror of the Horcrux hunt? Was she okay at the fact she was going to have to go through puberty again? Was she okay with the fact that she had lost her children, that they were never going to exist ever again? That they would become nothing but a mere memory, and that she would never be able to play with Hugo's curls again, or brush her daughter's Weasley red locks? Or never again kiss her husband Ron again, never nag at him for being late, or using magic inappropriately?Was she okay that her very existence as Hermione Granger was nothing but something that would only ever exist to herself and to those few beings who knew of her?

As she looked into James Potter's innocent eyes, Hermione realized she was. It wasn't that she didn't regret not staying in that library, it was more that she couldn't bring herself to feel that regret. So many people would be spared of the pain that was caused by Tom Marvelo Riddle. So many people would be untouched from the poison that he was. Including, she thought with a jolt, the boy in front of her, the boy that was now her brother.

"Yeah... I'm okay Jamie..." she whispered back to him, hugging him around his neck, sniffing again, using what she hoped to be his appropriate nickname, as she was sure Prongs was not yet valid.

He hugged her again around the waist, bring her into his lap easily, as he was rather tall for his age. It made Hermione faintly note that Harry had been completely underfed in his early years. She smiled a little at the fact that hopefully, this time around would not be the case.

"What happened?" asked James, still whispering into her ear.

Hermione pulled away from her brother, standing up and picking up the almost forgotten relics of her past, and mission. She looked into his innocent hazel eyes, memories going through her mind at lightning speed, including the memory of infant Harry's watching him fall to the infamous _adava kadavra _spell at Tom Riddle's hand. Each memory strengthened her resolve.

"Nothing but a nightmare, Jamie... Nothing but a nightmare." whispered Hermione, hoping, just hoping that thanks to her efforts it would become just that, her nightmare.


	4. Birthday Owls

**Chapter Three: Birthday Owls**

Hermione Ophelia Potter, as she was now hesitantly known as, stared at the sheer and beautiful canopy that covered her bed in the very early morning of August 28th, listing to the snores of the person next to her with seriousness cast over her newly beautiful features. The sun she knew, because of her consent glances at the small clock that was perched on her elegant nightstand, would rise in exactly two hours, which meant that at the moment the room was cast in gloomy sort of darkness, that suited Hermione's rather gloomy mood. The only thing that ruined that mood was the small twinkling of fairy lights embedded into the ceiling of her room, which of course, were arranged into the constellations. At the moment the stars of the Summer sky shinned down at her, and she found herself shaping the likes of

Heracles, and Cygnus with her newly deep blue eyes, trying to past the time, somehow knowing that it would just drag on her now.

It certainly hadn't done that at all in the last five months she thought with a happy grin, the spell of seriousness ending. Some part of her was amazed at the simple fact that five months had already passed by so quickly, or really most of her was amazed that she had 'arrived' here in the Potter household at all. She had learned a lot from her somewhat long stay here, which really should have been common knowledge, she thought with a slight pang of bitterness, as the Fates should have thought to give her the memories of the past ten years of her living as Hermione Potter, because surly it should have been important to know when her own birthday was, or of course, at least know what year it was? But, she thought with a sigh, maybe it was for the best for her not to have those memories, as really, she already had the memories of two people's lives, she really didn't need to have floating around her second life in her already overcrowded mess of a brain as well.

She knew what year it was, she was slightly proud to say, 1971. That hadn't been the easiest thing to find out, as well, how odd was that to ask to someone? They would think her mad. The buying of a small muggle calender at a local corner store had solved that dilemma, much to her delight. Her birthday she was sad to say though, wasn't something she had really figured out until last night, when James, or Jamie, as he was sometimes known to her, had knocked on her door and begged to stay. It was slightly out of character for him, as he only ever asked if a storm was ragging outside, which was another thing she had been surprised to learn, that James Potter was terrified of storms, it had made him seem so much more human than what he had been described to be in her 'past' life... Still, she had had to ask why he wanted to sleep together, as it was so damn odd. He had simply replied, in a confused voice:

"'Mione, it's tradition! We always wake up together on our birthday!"

It had been a little bit of a shock, she had to admit, after she had let him in without another word and curled up onto her bed, to learn that she was a twin of James Potter. James Potter! Her best friend's father! What a thing to be... Or really, she should stop being so surprised, she thought, scolding herself with a frown. She did look a lot like him, except of course, she was a bit smaller than her twin, as well as defiantly much more feminine than him, as she seemed to have to have taken more of her mother's genes. She was glad that she didn't have to wear glasses as well at the least, that sort of visual gene seemed to have to have developed on the male side of the Potter line. It would have been very troublesome to have to adjust to glasses, and from the memories she had of Harry's, as well as her brief moments as him, she knew that the Potter men just had terrible eyesight. She herself, as from what she could tell, had perfect vision, like her mother.

Perfect vision, for what seemed like the hundredth time, was looking around her in boredom trying to get the hours to past by quicker, taking stock of the already memorized room around her. It was a fairly big room, even bigger than what her bedroom as a married woman had been. It was also on the top floor of the Potter manor, which was a three stories tall, and from what she could tell, was a mixture of Medieval through modern day influence in its construction. She knew from examination that she and James had the whole floor to themselves, and that the whole floor had been split into four very large rooms. Two main rooms, and two bathrooms.

Her own room had two large floor length windows dotting the eastern wall, all of them covered in lovely sheer gold curtains, as well as the entire rather large nook made of glass embedded into a large part of the southern wall. It was also covered in a sheer curtain at the moment like the rest of her windows. That nook was her sanctuary in the house when she couldn't stand being around people anymore. Past the curtain, she knew she would find a a variety of pillows and poofs, as well as a stuffed animal or two arranged on the floor, so she could rest comfortably. She was also glad that the rest of the southern wall consisted of a book shelf, as well as the some of the western wall. Near the shelves there was an adult sized desk, with a child sized stool right next to it. She knew there to be a variety of odds and ends on top of her desk, like a book or two, and a few spare quills and parchment. Next to the shelves, on the western wall, the one that was connected to the rest of the house was her bathroom door, and a little ways down was the door to the small corridor, that only held her own door, James' and the staircase that lead to the lower floors.

Her rather princess like bed, she knew, was placed in the middle of the northern wall, and she knew if she turned around and banged on the wall behind her, that she would be able to yell at James to shut up. Or, she would if he was sleeping in his own room, because his own bed was in the exact same spot as her own. On either side of the bed, she knew there to be twin nightstands made of a lovely bright cherry wood, which the rest of her wooden furniture was made of as well. Which, if she looked to her left would see her small vanity made of as well, with a matching golden clothed covered stool, and her rather large wardrobe, which reminded her little of the wardrobe she had seen in a muggle film of one of her favorite books as a child, _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_.

She smiled a little at the memory of Ron gaping at the screen in sheer delight, along with Ginny and Neville, as it had been their first time in a muggle cinema. She remembered the look she and Harry had shared, the smile on his beloved face as he tipped his head in the direction of the pure blooded wizards' and witch's reactions. It had been only seven years after the end of the war, and it had been fairly hard on all of them. That viewing of that amazing film had given them a sort of peace that they hadn't known in a long time. It might have helped Hermione had announced later that she was pregnant in the parking lot. She held back tears at she remembered the flabbergasted look on Ron's face, and the way he had scooped her up in his strong arms and wiry arms, spinning her around in sheer delight, babbling away nonsense in her ear as he did. Her small and pale hand unwillingly drifted to her abdomen, and she let out a soft and sad sigh as she remembered when her little Rose had kicked for the first time.

Hermione tore herself rather violently from that thought, growling at herself for dwelling in her 'past'. She once again looked around herself, and examined her room with almost unnatural concentration, hoping to distract herself. She knew that at the foot of her bed she would find a school sized trunk, which she knew to had belong to her mother, filled with her toys. She made a mental note to use that trunk for Hogwarts, as she really didn't want to use too much money. While the Grangers hadn't been poor, they had been only been a middle class family, and they had taught her to not spend too much money, and to never waste money unless it necessary. Hermione frowned slightly as she looked around at the sort of causal wealth that surrounded her. She had a feeling that this was going to be a little hard if her family was a little loosed handed with their money...

She sat up, removing James's arm from her waist as carefully as possible, and trying not to coo at the fact that her brother had hugged her unconsciously in his sleep. The room, she had noticed with a faint twist of her stomach, was brightening at a frightening speed. She glanced at her wizard's clock, and noticed with slight dismay that the sight of the planets and moons alined in such a way that stated it was around five o' clock, which meant sunrise. She wondered where her two hours had gone.

She glanced over at James, her beloved twin. She gave a small and childish giggle at her thought, because he really was beloved to her. It did surprise her how much he had come to mean to her in such a short time, as five months really wasn't that long, but he was her brother. He was her partner in crime, they were partially joined at the hip, as they were hardly ever without each other, save for those few moments that she wished for solitude, which he seemed to always know when she did, and would always leave her with nothing more than a swift kiss to the cheek, or maybe a small hug. He always knew when to come back she thought with a smile, and he always knew when to make her laugh. When to give her a hug, when to simply stay quiet, or when to be as loud as possible...

Of course, he wasn't perfect, far from it really. Sometimes the joke would go far, or they would get into a row for the silliest things... It didn't help that they were both as stubborn as mules. He was also, she was not pleased to learn, a very good biter. She still had a bruise on her wrist from a minor little squabble they had had yesterday. She at least had also learned that she was very good at kicking, which would account for the foot shaped bruise on his stomach. She smirked at the thought. Yes, James was her brother, in all sense of the words, and was worming his way into the small little niche that had previously only held Harry inside of it.

She glanced once again at her brother, and saw his death once again, almost like a video was playing in her head, and she gave a soft whimper as he fell like a marionette with cut strings after the tell tell emerald light that had killed so many people... Including, she thought with a small jolt, herself... But, that was never going to happen she thought with a firm and grim expression, James Potter, and Lily Potter, Evans now, she corrected herself quickly, were going to live. Even if she died trying. With that happy thought, Hermione smiled grimly, and cursed her photographic memory in her head. She then sighed, stretching her arms over her head, smiling when she heard a faint crack. She also yawned, a little, and decided maybe best for her to fall asleep and get a little rest... With that thought, Hermione fell back onto her pillows, and snuggled over to the warmth that was James, and was pleased to note that he slung an arm over her without pause, sighing happily as he did. Her eyes closed, and her face relaxed soon into sleep. She didn't wake up for a long time.

James William Potter woke up a few hours later with a slight start, holding back a scream, as the dream, no, the nightmare that had just been placed upon him had been rather horrible. He squinted slightly at the harsh light that entered his retina, and sighed tiredly, as this sort of nightmare had been rather constant for a while now, really, it had plagued him for five months, ever since his twin little sister's own nightmare. He wondered if their nightmare was same one... The nightmare of seeing her simply standing there, in a dark place, full of that haunting green light. It was a silent nightmare, where she just stared at him with her haunted blue eyes, which would flicker slightly, shifting from the blue he had known his whole life to a soft chocolate brown. Her haggard face was paler than normal, and large blots of purple would grace the underside of her eyes, and she looked unbelievably tired. Sometimes, if he looked away from his sister, he would see the strangest glow coming from a necklace around her neck.

It was a simple golden chain, if he remembered right, a golden chain that held a charm that looked rather like a muggle cross that he saw people wearing at times, only it held a circle at the top. Sometimes she would be clutching to it, sometimes it would just swing eerily of its own will around her neck. At other times, his sister would be kneeling, seemingly like those muggles who prayed in church, her small hands clasped tightly around the a ruby encrusted handle of a sword, which would gleam sickly in the green light. Her head would be bowed, and he couldn't see her beloved face.

Around her, glowing with a dark light, would be those five things. A battered black diary, in which the initials T.M.R. would gleam sickly at him. A chunky and heavy golden ring, which held a heavy black stone that seem to project sadness at him. A heavy golden locket, whose mark of a snake seemed to flicker with life. A small, two handle golden cup, whose badger seemed to be withering in agony. And, finally that strange and broken tiara which laid on the floor somewhat pitifully, all of gems either gone or cracked, the swirling writing that he could see on it somewhat lost in translation, as he could never read it. Nonetheless, it was a horrible nightmare, no matter which form of it tormented him.

Again, James sighed, his hazel eyes flickering to his twin. He frowned when he noticed only a black and white blur in front of him. He automatically rummaged around the nightstand near his sister's bed, and quickly found his glasses, which he promptly shoved onto his rather long nose. The world around him automatically went into sharp focus, and he could see the light filled heaven that was his sister's room. He then turned to his sister, trying to make sure she was really there.

She was, fast asleep, on her side and curled into a little ball, leaning toward him with a small smile on her lips. Her rather messy and raven hair, much like his own, was everywhere. It made him smile, to just see her so peaceful. Half the time his twin would always get this far off look in her eyes, and would look so sad. He would always make her laugh, of course. He had to make her laugh at any cost. It was his duty to make her laugh, to make her happy. He _**was**_ the older brother. By five minutes of course, but those five minutes meant that he had to protect her, just like his dad told him to. He stole another glance at her, and smiled, this time full of mischief. It was time to make her laugh... Okay, he thought honestly to himself, poised for the attack, it would mostly for his enjoyment really. With a snicker, he pounced.

She woke up with a shriek, blue eyes wide with shock. Then she started to laugh as he attacked mercilessly at her sides, fingers wiggling and making her scream with laughter. It wasn't to long before she was crying with her laughter. It was an even shorter time for her to rear up, and attack him back. He was not pleased to see, at all, that he gave a little girlish squeal as she went straight for his weak spot, his feet. That meant the war was on... Or really, he thought as he leaped up, and ran to the door, retreat.

"Coward!" screamed Hermione as she watched James run away.

She leaped up herself, not even bothering to slip on a dressing gown or slippers, and chased after him. He was already at the stairs by the time she got to her open door, and he gave her a cheeky wave, along with rather insultingly blown raspberry in her direction. She dashed after him, grateful for her long legs, as for a child, they were rather long. She took each sped down the elegant oak stair case, two and then three at a time, trying to catch James. It wasn't until she reached the ground floor did she guess where exactly he was headed. She beamed, and turned straight around, hoping that her shore cut would help her catch him.

In her five months, Hermione had come to know the Potter manor fairly well, in her earlier exploration days, she had discovered a variety of passages and hidden rooms, as well as a few dozen dumbwaiters that lead to all of the rooms in the homes, if you just spoke its name. The dumbwaiters were rather well hidden as they were invisible, but she knew how to spot invisible things by that familiar sliver sheen. Though, to be honest she suspected no one even knew their existence, save for herself. She had always been good at spotting things like this, and was not surprised that no one else knew of the secret passage way that it was. She found one quickly, as she had made a mental note of where each of them where in each room of the house, as a safety precaution. She may need one day a means to escape, or maybe even ambush someone, so she knew it was best to keep them in mind. With a quick feel around, she found the latch, and pulled.

The back of the door was made of a light wood, and she could see the rather large dumbwaiter waiting for her, which as she looked at it closely, seemed pretty big, and she knew could easily carry at the least two adults in. With that thought, Hermione hopped in, closing the door behind her. It was unbelievably dark with the door close, and she longed for a wand to perform lumos at the least...

"The dinning room..." she whispered, reminding herself that the faster she said the word, the faster she would be out of this dark place.

It was strange to Hermione, she thought as the dumbwaiter gave a jolt, and started to zoom every-way and any way, rather like the ministry elevators, that she was scared of the dark. She had never been scared of the dark even in her childhood in her past life. Heights? Sure. Failing? Check. But the dark, well it hadn't really been something that had ever been frightening for her... But, now it was... Maybe it was because here in the dark she could see everything in her mind-scape so much easier. Hence, all the deaths and horrors of her past streamed with high definition clarity each time she was in the dark... She really wondered if the fear might have came from the body itself, not her 'anima' as Death had called her. The body feared the dark, and not her soul. It explained a lot of things that had happened over the last few months she thought with a frown. She liked cherries now, when she had hated them in her previous body. She was much athletic as well, and could run even faster than her previous adult body, and not get as winded. She even hated things she had loved in her previous life, as she now hated oranges with a heated passion. As well as anything sugar-free, she was somewhat embarrassed to figure out, as well, her past parents would have been appalled. When the dumbwaiter finally came to a screeching stop, Hermione, without hesitation pushed on the door, and slipped into the dinning room.

Like the rest of the house, the dinning room was a fairly big , and elegantly dressed in the rather Grffyndor colors of scarlet and gold. Which explained why her brother had wanted to be in Grffyndor so badly, as it the influence was rather biased... To her luck, only one other person was in the room, and that was her father, William Potter, who at the moment, also had his back to her. More of her luck coming into play, because she had the faint feeling that if either of the Potter seniors discovered the dumbwaiters, her little secret passage way would disappear. She stepped quietly away from the dumbwaiter, closing the door as quietly as she could, and ran over to the door, hoping to catch her brother.

Her father looked up from the Daily Prophet, quirking an eyebrow at her rather sudden appearance. She merely placed a finger to her lips, and winked at him. He chuckled, muttering about cheeky children and going back to the Prophet with a smirk on his lips, part of him still peaking over it and wondering what his daughter was up to. Merlin he loved her, thought William with a fond smile, still keep an eye on the waiting eleven year old.

She was intelligent he thought with fondness, almost frighteningly so. He knew she was going to cause quite the stir the second she set foot in Hogwarts. His little poppet was going to be the brightest witch of her age, and many more to come. After all, he and Bea had taught her themselves, and while James of course wasn't a stupid boy by any means, Hermione was special. Eleven years of raising her and he knew this for a fact. It was probably because she was such an old soul he thought after a moment of more musing of his daughter's intelligence and attitude. She was such a mature girl, that sometimes he found it hard to believe that she was merely ten- eleven years old. Yes... Hermione is special he though smirking as he caught site of his other amazing child, James, who at the moment was unaware of the doom that was about to befall him.

Hermione waited for the perfect moment to launch her attack, screaming like a banshee in her night gown, very pleased indeed at the girlish squeal her brother produced the second he knew it was too late to escape. To his credit, James fought rather valiantly, pushing, biting, and tickling against Hermione with all the power any newly turned eleven year old could have. It wasn't enough, as Hermione gave the winning assault with another banshee war cry, knocking both of them off balance. The two siblings fell down with twin shrieks, and landed in a rather ungraceful heap, a massive tangle of limbs and laughter. They held onto each other, their war all but forgotten, as they were to busy laughing.

"Happy birthday 'Mione..." whispered James, slipping it though in his rather uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Hermione beamed at her brother, untangling one of her arms enough to swing it over his shoulder, while he did the same to hug her waist.

"Happy birthday Jamie..." she whispered back.

"My, my, what do we have here?" said a pleasant and feminine voice.

Both Hermione and James looked up to see Beatrice Potter smiling down at them, her arms laden with a amazing looking spread of various foods, including all of their favorites. Hermione also saw that behind her mother, two of the dozens of House elves, Blinky and Tinky were laden with food as well. Hermione stomach rumbled in unison with James', just as they shouted, also curiously in unison:

"Mum!"

Beatrice simply smiled wider at her two children, and nodded her head toward the table.

"Sit down and maybe you twin little monsters will get this amazing birthday breakfast." she said with obvious affection in her voice.

Both Hermione and James, Beatrice was pleased to note, got up and ran to the table immediately. They did so rather quickly, so quickly in fact that she wondered if they had used magic. She smiled at the thought, part of her mourning the fact that her babies were already so grown up. It seemed like just yesterday she had discovered she was pregnant, a miracle, because, well, she was not a young woman. At least, not in a physical sense, she corrected herself quietly in her mind. The fact that she had gotten pregnant at all still baffled her, as she remembered quite plainly that she was supposed to have lost that ability in her youth, due to a potions accident. It had been the most painful thing to hear, as she had just married William, and she had wanted a family so badly... But it hadn't been her fate to have children, and though it had taken her years, decades, she had found herself simply content with her William.

She sighed happily at the mere thought of her husband, setting down the food that filled her arms with a grace and speed that should have been impossible for a woman of her age. She glanced once again at her children, and smiled softly at their precious faces. Eleven years ago she had been happy with just her husband, true, but the second she had discovered that she was pregnant, well, she had been the happiest ever in her life. And she had wanted the child inside her to live, no matter how slim the chances that had been given to her by the healers. And so, months later, after hours of suffering, sweat and tears, James had been born. Not even a second later, the midwife had surprised them all by saying that the second child was on its way.

They hadn't known that she had been carrying two children, as all scans had claimed that only James was present. But, it hadn't been a bad surprise at all, but a rather joyous one. Five minutes after that, her little secret had been born. Oh, even today Beatrice cannot describe how she felt when she had first held her children in her tired arms. Their small faces had brought an emotion in her that had her sobbing, yet smiling. When the midwife had asked for names... Well, William had already thought of a name for the fussy little boy in her arms, and so James William Potter he had become. But, as for the little silent girl, well, one look at her small face, and the name Hermione had slipped past her lips before she could even think. She had never really known why, but the second she had spoken she knew that that was the name for her daughter. So Hermione she was, along with her own mother's name, Ophelia, and her daughter had become Hermione Ophelia Potter.

"Mum?" asked a quiet voice, breaking Beatrice from her remembrances.

She looked up to see Hermione looking at her with those old blue eyes. Beatrice blinked, wondering why on Earth she had just called her daughter's eyes old. But, as she looked on at her, Beatrice knew that that observation was true, because her daughter's eyes always held a look of maturity and age that made Beatrice feel incredibly sad. She shook herself from the odd thoughts, and answered her daughter:

"Yes dear?" she answered her with much more cheerfulness than she actually felt, because the odd thoughts were still somewhat present in her mind.

"Are you okay? You look a little sad." said Hermione softly.

Beatrice once again blinked, this time to shoo away tears, because her little secret always somehow knew when she felt odd or particularly weepy.

"Oh, love, I feel just a little sad, you and James are just so grown up, already off to Hogwarts! It seems like just yesterday you dears were being born..." whispered Beatrice, no longer able to hold back her tears.

Hermione smiled sympathetically to her mother, as not to long ago... Or really, around some thirty years in the never-to-happen-future, she had felt the same for her own daughter. But, well, she knew as an eleven year old, saying this to her mother of all people would be odd indeed, so instead if offering her sympathies, Hermione said this:

"Oh, mum you don't have to worry. We're still your babies."

Part of her cringed as she said this, as well, she was most not defiantly a baby, as she was technically thirty-eight years old mentally, but she knew this would ease her mother's mind. Which it did, as she saw her visibly relax. It was then that Hermione noticed that she had been calling her mother in her mind this whole time, instead of Beatrice Potter as she had done in the first few weeks. With a jolt, Hermione knew that she really was who her family thought she was. In the past five months, she had come to know the Potters, and in turn she had started to feel apart of them. Part of her wondered how on Earth she had grown up without them the first time around.

Though Amelia and Henry Granger had never been bad parents in any sense, as they had made sure she had the best education and a roof over her head at all times, but they had always lacked affection toward her. They had loved her, she knew, but they had never shown it often. They had always been to busy with their practice, as well as with each other. Hermione still mourned the fact because she knew that though they had supported her throughout her wish to become a witch, they had never really been okay with it. She knew that they had wanted a 'normal' child. She also knew that part of them had never wanted to have children in the first place. The whole stunt at making them forget her had not helped their already messy relationship in the least. Even nineteen years later, they had still kept their distance from her. It had hurt, to learn that they never understood the fact that she had done it to protect them.

Hermione was broken out of her thoughts as she heard James snort softly to the left of her, shoveling his pancakes with such a speed that she knew that even Ron would have been impressed. James turned over to her, his eyebrow lifting, and his mouth still full of food as he spoke:

"Speak for your self little 'Mione! Going off to Hogwarts makes me a man!" he screamed, flapping his arms around with emphasis.

Hermione herself had to snort at that, lifting her eyebrow to mirror James expression.

"A man that still sleeps in his _**little**_ sister's bed because he's afraid of storms? That stills needs help with cleaning up his toys, or is it the man that still can't tie his shoe properly?" asked Hermione with a smirk on her face.

James simply spluttered for a moment, turning a deep shade of crimson that even a Weasley would be proud of.

"Well!WELL! Well... Well at least I'm older! Besides, I can tie my shoe, I just don't need to do all those fancy little loops that you do!" James said weakly to her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, a habit she had picked up from Ron. Her brother really was just an eleven year old.

"By five minutes." said her father, flipping a page delicately in his newspaper.

Hermione beamed at the knew information, as she had been wondering by how much James had beaten her into coming into the world.

"Still older!" retorted James a little smugly, put not really with much, as he knew it was true.

Hermione just smirked.

"Those five minutes didn't make you any smarter or more mature Jamie, so don't boast about them." said Hermione smartly, eating her breakfast with a delicate hand.

He huffed at her, hating that she was right. The rest of the meal was eaten in relative loudness, from the constant jabbering away of James' loud and childish voice, to her mother's soft and well spoken inputs, to her father's rather calm and booming voice. Hermione herself didn't say a word, preferring to eat her meal listening to her family's antics.

Nothing really important happened until two owls swooped in rather suddenly, landing in front of James and herself. They stuck out their legs, and Hermione's throat closed a little as she saw the familiar crest inlaid in the wax seal. She reached out with slightly trembling hands, ignoring the loud whoop from James. She opened the letter with a smooth movement of her unused steak knife. And Read:

_Dear Miss. Hermione O. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1__st__. We await your owl by no later than August 31__st__._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She was going to Hogwarts in less than a few days, she was going to see the people that had all been lost in the war, some before she had been born. It was going to be hard, she knew, but she was ready. Five months with James had helped get use to the idea. Part of her dreaded seeing Dumbledore most of all, but she knew she could face him. Knowing Occlumecy would help a great deal against the man, and she was glad she had had a mind to learn it even after the war.

"Well... I guess that means that tomorrow we have to head over to Diagon, doesn't it? Have to get your supplies." said her mother, sniffing sadly, tearing her from her thoughts.

Her father patted her mother on the hand, while James just jumped up and screamed with delight. Hermione herself couldn't help but be happy as well, as she was going back to the place that had come to mean so much to her. So, with James, she screamed out with delight:

"Hogwarts! HOGWARTS, Hoggy! Hoggy! Hogwarts!"

Both her parents chuckled in response as both she and James started to dance around the room, still screaming the tune at the top of their lungs. Hermione ignored the dread that was mounting in her stomach, because she knew that she would face whatever was to come head on.

**An: Oppsies, I soooo messed up on the date on the date in the Hogwarts letter, I'm sooooo sorry!**

**Okay, Okay, I just seen that I've not but up a disclaimer, oppsies. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters, no matter how much I want to... Anyway, as you seen, or read, I've taken some liberty with certain aspects. J.K., has already said the name of the senior Potters, which are Dorea and Charlus, respectively. Did not know that folks, and I don't plan to change that, as well, the names I have now work for my story better. On that note, I've also changed James' birthday, ****while knowing it,(March 27****nd****) I just decided to make him younger, as again, this suits my story better, and I kinda wanted to make Hermione waaaay younger than everybody this time, as it makes for a kinda switch to what's she is use to. That's also a reason why I didn't make her Lily's twin (though I considered it), for one it has been done before in a fairly good fic The Thief of Time, and I didn't want to make it seem as copying... And for another reason, I thought it be interesting for Hermione to see the 'pure' side of things, as this time she won't be subjected to ridicule because of her heritage. Now, I also like to point out that this will happen a lot, that I will twist certain things to fit my needs. Like the ages of certain people, ect. But, then again I guess you won't know what I'm talking about until I get their...Ah, well, I hope you like the story folks, and I like to plead you to review, hopefully something nice? The first one to do so will get an excerpt of the next chapter, when I have some of it written. **


	5. These Old But New Faces

**Chapter Four: These Old But New Faces**

Hermione Potter frowned slightly as she saw the form of transportation she was taking to the ever familiar, and famous Diagon Alley to get her and her twin's school supplies on the morning of August 29th. It consisted of a chimney, and a bit of silvery dust. Floo powder. She hated Floo powder. Or, well, the memory of Harry's experience with Floo powder made her hate it. It was odd, really, because of Harry's memories, she seemed to be developing some of his habits and vices. At times, her hand would come up, as if to lift up a pair of slipping glasses up her nose, only to see that they weren't there. At other times, she would also reach up to shift her bangs, as if she was going to cover the scar that wasn't there, and hopefully never would be... She would also absently show her right hand in more prominence, as if she was going to tell the whole world, 'I must not tell lies'. Or, even, as she found herself more prone to do, she would prefer to sink back in the shadows, like Harry had always tired to do. Tired being the key word there, as she knew that he could never really stay in the shadows or on the edges being who he was... Even at a young age, Harry Potter had always been forced into the spotlight, to stand apart...

Which really was quite ridiculous. But, going back to her earlier train of though, Hermione wondered why she was taking up Harry's habits. The likely culprit _**would**_ be the memories themselves, as they where not exactly as the memories she had received before... They didn't seem like the memories of another person, not really. They seemed to be as real as her own memories, as she saw them through Harry's eyes, not from an outside perspective. She could recall every aspect of each of them with perfect clarity as well as her own... But, it seemed to be such a simple explanation. To have Harry's habits because of his memories... But what else could she say as to why she did? She wondered if she had also had inherited his skills. She wondered a little dryly if this time around she could stand being on a broom for more than five minutes at any given time...

"Hermione dear?" asked a voice to her right, making Hermione jump out of her musing and flinch, as always her hand twitching as if to move for the wand that wasn't there... Yet.

Hermione turned to her mother, a frown on her face, as she remembered that she had to use Floo powder. She thought quite seriously if she should just take her mother's wand and use apparition to reach Diagon Alley, to make things much simpler... But, then she suppose, it would take some explaining she couldn't exactly do at the moment. With that thought, Hermione responded to her mother:

"Yes mum?" in a quiet, though high voice of her's that never ceased to bring a sort of annoyance to her.

It made her note, with a silent curse to both the Fates and Death that she would have to go through puberty again. Bugger, as well, the first time around had been such a _**joy**_, as not only she had to deal with rising hormones, she had also had been fighting to help Harry save the wizarding world. This time she was in essence, filling in Harry's roll... Oh, she hopped that this time her acne wouldn't be as bad as before, because it had been such a nightmare...

"Would you like to go first Hermione?" asked her mother, once again tearing her from her thoughts.

Hermione thought for a moment, and decided that she had to do it sooner or later... With a nod to her parents, and a wink to her brother, who was pouting at his mother at the fact that he wasn't going first, Hermione took a pitch of powder from the mantle, thanking Merlin in her mind that her parents though that their children where capable, and not at all delicate china dolls that had to be Mollycoddled twenty four seven. With that thought touching softly on the woman in the past that had been more like her mother than a mother-in-law, Hermione flicked the Floo powder into flames, and stepped into them before shouting:

"Diagon Alley!" in a clear, voice, ever mindful of the ashes and soot, because well, she really did not think that a trip to Knockturn Alley would please her parents much... Though she suppose James would think it wicked...

Hermione was torn for that thought as the fire around her erupted, a much more brighter, and dazzling emerald. The last thought that Hermione could bring herself to think was that it had been a cruel twist of fate that Harry's eyes had been a color so close to the spell that had taken her life. She was spinning at a fast degree, as if down a giant drain, her eyes span with the dreaded, yet beloved colored flames, and she felt her breakfast turning in her stomach. It wasn't over fast enough, and when it was, Hermione fell over in an ungraceful heap on the floor, and she also managed to bang her chin on the edge of the hearth. Which in turn made her swear soundlessly, a habit that had developed during the war, because, well, she couldn't exactly swear loudly in a place where she might be overheard...

"Oh dear! Are you alright?" asked a loud, and familiar voice.

The owner of said voice lifted her up with a firm grip to her upper arm, and Hermione looked up, only to feel enormous shock course through her at the person that was picking her up. It was a young woman, who looked to be around her late teens, or her early twenties. Her hair was a fiery red that reached her shoulders, pulled back by a simple black band that revealed her plump, and youthful face, in which her brown, round eyes were staring at her with concern in them. As she let go of Hermione, she noticed that the young woman had a toddler in the crook of her arm, balanced on her hip. He was a darling little thing, with red hair like his mother, only much brighter from what she could tell, because, well, Weasley red hair was such a unique and singular color... Bill and Molly Weasley where standing right in front of her, thought Hermione with wide eyes after she registered his hair properly. Mrs. Weasley took out her wand and flicked it, whipping away any soot or ash that had covered Hermione. She stared and Hermione for a moment, before she got the gist that she was suppose to respond to the question she had asked.

"I... I'm fine... Thank you..." said Hermione, forcing back the tears because the woman that had been a mother to her in her previous life was standing right in front of her, holding the little boy that would have become a marred, but great man.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, seeming to doubt that she felt fine, before she adjusted little Bill on her hip.

"First time in the Floo?" asked the young mother, curiously.

Hermione merely nodded, before she heard a whoosh behind her and turned just in time to see her twin tumble out, a mad grin on his face. He raced to her with a whoop, and slung his arm around her waist with ease.

"That was far out 'Mione!" said James, using a slang he had overheard a muggle use yesterday, which made Hermione roll her eyes.

He was such a child that it made Hermione want to throttle him at times...

"Was not." responded Hermione dryly, shaking her head.

James merely grinned, before giving Molly a curious look, his hazel eyes sparkling with his curiosity at the fact that the woman was looking at his little sister with concern in her eyes. By his little 'Mione's bad response to the Floo, he had a feeling that had gone bad for her... Which really, was rather funny, because most of the time, Hermione did everything perfectly with such an annoying ease... James jumped and turned around when he heard the whoosh of the Floo, and grinned as he saw his mum step through with that easy grace that he only ever saw her walk with, though by the looks of it, Hermione was well on her was of using it as well. She walked over to them, and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, smiling proudly at the fact that they had done well and not ended up anywhere strange other than the public Floo entrance.

"Hello, Molly Weasley," said Mrs. Weasley, surprising Hermione by extending her hand at her mother.

Her mother was a little surprised as well, but returned the gesture, greeting, and introduction easily, a look of curiosity in her blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, it just when the little girl came out she did so a little shakily... I was wondering if she's alright? She says she is, but well, I don't know her that well to know, really." said Mrs. Weasley with a small blush on her round cheeks.

Hermione blushed at her words, head dipping down in embarrassment at the fact that she couldn't even travel the Floo network properly, which was ridiculous considering she had worked at Ministry after all... James snickered, an amused look on his face, and he leaned over to mutter:

"Black Mail!" in a singsong voice.

Which of course made Hermione stomp on his foot, the hardest she could. He of course yelped and hopped on foot, making Hermione snicker... Which was rather childish of her, if she thought about it... But, why in the name of Merlin couldn't she be childish she thought with a blink. Because despite her age mentally, in essence she was a _**child**_. Her first childhood had been, well, not as horrible as Harry's, but close enough. It hadn't had a happy one at least... And well, this childhood was already mostly over, but she suppose she could make the most of it. She would of course not forget her mission, but Death had never said to be all business... It was in that moment that Hermione deiced to live this new life of her's to her best ability. She would never forget her past life of course, but... It was just that she supposed. Her_** past**_ life...

"Hermione!" whined a voice in her ear, making her jump and stare at the person that had called her.

She was surprised to see Molly Weasley leaving, waving and her father next to her mother, arm around her waist in causal affection. James was tapping his foot, a frown on his face.

"Can I help you?" she asked a little rudely to her brother, because she was having an epiphany here!

James rolled his eyes at her, and tugged sharply on a strand of her long raven hair.

"Stop spacing out! I swear you live on Jupiter 'Mione!"said James with a frown, once again tugging on her hair, not hard, but enough for her to know she was irritated with her.

Hermione, this time, had the decency to blush. Truth be told, she really did space out a lot, but well how was that her fault? She had two people's worth of memories, memories that were not at all pleasant, and well, frankly, played in her head like muggle's movies, as well as her own new emotions and experiences to deal with. Not to mention the fate of the wizarding, if not all of the world in her hands. Bit of pressure for an eleven year old, really. But,well, she returned to the matter at hand, and tired for a little humor with her twin, to ease his obvious worry.

"I live on Venus, thank you very much." muttered Hermione, elbowing her brother playfully.

He elbowed her back, and they horsed around for a while, making Hermione laugh. And because of that, James laughed. And seeing the two of their children so grown up yet childish and laughing made the Senior Potters smile.

The family, after a quick stop at Gringotts, deiced to split up into two teams until around lunch time, where the whole family would have lunch, and then stop by the Magical Menagerie and Ollivander's. Each child went with the parent of their respected genders. James and her father rushed of to what she could see to be Madam Makkin's Robes for All Occasions. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't stay there for to long. After all, the Quality Qudditch Supplies was only two doors down, and though much smaller and less grand than she remembered, it was still, well, a Qudditch store. At least that part of her life hadn't changed thought Hermione a little dryly, the boys in her life were still Qudditch mad. Her mother, insisted that they leave the boys be, and simply gather the supplies themselves, which Hermione thought was a pretty good idea, because she doubted that they would gather anything other than James' robes.

"Do you have your list dear?" asked her Mother after a moment, seemingly trying to get her bearings.

Hermione nodded, and held it up, thinking with some amusement that in over the course of forty or so years, the list would never change. Beatrice, unknowingly was thinking the same as her daughter, that the list hadn't changed since she was child, which, really had been a very, very long time ago. With her daughter, she set off.

They visited only a few stores without much incident, in which Hermione thought that most of the stores wouldn't change much in forty years, either becoming smaller or bigger. And Hermione soon had a new pewter caldron, a lot of parchment and quills, a nice set of brass scales, a collapsible telescope, a nice red school bag and despite her protests, a new trunk. All shrunken down to fit in her mother's pocket, which of course held a twin set for her brother, though the difference lay in the fact that he had gotten a golden school bag instead. Hermione thought that having a wizard for a parent wasn't half bad, as well this time around she didn't have to carry all of her things, or anyone else's. After leaving the luggage shop, her mother lead her to Flourish and Blott's, which Hermione of course, was ever so pleased to go to, not for her course books, but for her own personal reading. Her mother had given her a limit of ten books for herself, and she wanted to see if she could find any books on her... Well, on her little situation. She doubted she would find anything, but she just wanted to learn more... And though the Potter library was extensive and well put together, it held nothing concrete on the subject, other than a few vague references. She would try her luck at Hogwarts as well, but she wanted to see how much the bookshop would offer her, though she doubted either would have anything important...

The shop, like many of the other shops, had not, or more accurately, would not change much in the forty or so years since than the last time Hermione had step foot in it. The shelves were still reached the ceiling and were filled to the brim, and the only difference between then and now was the fact that the manger behind the counter was much younger, and the floor was 'retro' carpet now, instead of the wooden and gleaming floor boards of before... Or of later? Hermione huffed at the thought, thinking that in the next few years the tenses were going to get very confusing and head ache causing...

Soon after that thought, as her mother picked up her course books, Hermione darted between the shelves, ignoring the looks of confusion of the manger and various employes as she scanned through thick tome after thick tome, some about time travel, and others about the mysterious beings that were Death and the Fates, and even more others about souls and death itself. Most from what she could see, were utter rubbish.

Like the book of _Through the Veil of the Afterlife by Wilder H. Lock., _which consisted of 'real' accounts of people with near death experiences. Most of the accounts had all the details wrong, and claimed that various 'beings' sent them back to life, which Hermione knew from two experiences, was not all the common. From the little Death had said, to be visited by her was rare, and would only happen upon request or very serious need. It was your departed loves ones that came to guide you, not Death herself. She knew that it was mathematically impossible, god-like being or not, to be at the death of every person. Though the book was utterly rubbish, Hermione was amazed at how well it was written, and made for a very good read... She chucked it aside nonetheless, because she didn't want a book full of lies. Lockheart in second year had been bad enough. A similar book to this was the _Powers of The Souls by Violenta Dye_, which was really a narrative of the woman's ego going wild over the power of the souls. It was nothing serious, other than ludicrous theories that had no magical, or scientific value. Yet another book was _Deities Of Us by Quin Momta, _which held nothing but few obscure references to things Hermione had seen in muggle literature... _**Fictional**_ literature. She tossed those books away in disgust, and knew that though being good friends with Luna Lovegood over the course of almost two decades had changed how narrow her mind was, their was a limit to how much she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt, especially when she had first hand accountants of her own to consider. Plus, she had a faint feeling that even Luna would not give _**these**_ books the time of day.

Other books, or well one book, she was pleased to note, did have some potential, and she quickly carried it protectively to her chest. _Morte __by G.R._, seemed to have actual context to what little she new, and she couldn't wait to read it. The only down side to this book was the fact that it was thin, almost paper thin. But, it was more than she could really ask for, as she had expected nothing at all. Since Hermione still had a limit of nine more books, she deiced to just restock one of the few books she hadn't had in her beaded bag at the time of her death. So with that in mind, Hermione went off to look for the one book that she had cursed that she hadn't thought to have in there, or be in the Potter manor Library, or in her own personal one. She didn't find it quickly. But in her search, she did pick up a few other books that seemed good, and by some miracle were things she had never read. But, when she had acquired eight more books, and was cursing the fact that wizards seemed not to know about the Dewey decimal system in the seventies, she finally found what she was looking for, and couldn't help but squeal childishly at the fact she had finally found _Hogwarts, A History_.

She reached for it, balancing for the most part thick tomes that were almost the as thick as her hand was wide in her arm, not knowing that at that exact moment, someone else, who was fairly taller, and definitely much more stronger, reached for the last copy as well. When the pair of them both took hold of the book, they noticed the other's hand, and turned to see who was reaching forthe book. Unfortunately for Hermione though, the other person also had deiced to yank at the book, which caused her to fall out of balance, in a ungraceful heap of limbs and tomes. She was cursing under her breath, as always silent, as she looked up to glare at the person that had made her fall, or more importantly, was holding _**her**_book.

It was boy, who seemedaround her age, and was around James' height. His hair was pretty long for a boy, and it reached his chin in a slight curl falling into his slightly hooded gray eyes with a causal elegance. It was very a glossy black, that unlike her raven colored hair did not have a blue tint to it, but was a true, jet black color. He also unlike her, was not pale, and had a golden hue to his skin, as if he spent much of his time inside. He was dressed in bottle green robes, much like Hermione own red ones, save of course he had a more masculine touch to his, and very much longer than her's which only reached her knees, and showed off her white summer dress. He was in black shorts, but they were made of a stiff material like slacks, as well as a crisp white shirt and sliver tie, and a pair of black dress shoes, that greatly differed from the yellow booted converse that graced her own two feet.

His appearance unlike her own, screamed pureblood, and she just knew that this boy was from one of the more influential families, or the ones that weren't 'bloodtraitors'. He was also, Hermione was surprised to note, very cute, and if she had been the age of thirty-seven as she had been just five months ago, she would have grabbed at his cheeks and cooed at him, despite his obvious bloodline and probably dislike of her own past one.

"I'm sorry!" said the boy after a moment of shock, gray eyes wide, surprising her by kneeling down and to help her gather her books.

Hermione merely untangled herself from the tomes, and nodded. Still a little shocked at the fact that the obvious pureblood was going to help... But then again, it shouldn't be surprising, because well, they weren't all purity nutters or complete jerks, Slytherin colors aside. Together in silence they gathered up her books, and she lamented that it was best if she gave the boy book, even though it was one of her favorites, because well, she had read it so many times, and she could get a another copy whenever a new order of them came in. He stood up first, half of her books under one arm, the other offering to help her up. She took it without hesitation, noting that his hand was pretty warm, and he pulled her up with an ease that most eleven or so year olds didn't have.

"I'm really am sorry, it was a pretty beastly of me to do that." said the boy, letting go of her hand and using his own to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Hermione smiled warmly at the boy, pleased that he was at least sheepish about it. The boy blinked at her expression.

"It's quite alright, I should have paid more attention, besides it my own fault for having heavy books." said Hermione, still smiling at his stunned expression, it was as if the boy expect her to blow up or something just because he knocked her over.

Though, she was mildly irked, she deiced to let it slide, because it really was not that big of a deal, and he_** had **_apologized. He seemed still a little nervous, but he started to smile as he noticed that she wasn't going to start a row with him, an impish smile that was just a hint mischievous, and just a touch shy. It was a very nice smile thought Hermione, blinking, and wondering why on earth this person seemed so familiar to her, yet not. After a moment, the boy stopped rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and held it out to her. Once again, Hermione took it without hesitation, and was surprised that he lifted his hand to his mouth to kiss it, and gave a small bow along with it, a very old fashioned gesture that mystified her a bit.

She had only ever had Sirius Black do that to her, and only once, when they had met for a second time the summer before her fifth year, and he had explained it was in thanks for saving him, and that his mother had taught him to do that at a young age, because, and quote; '_That bloody old hag thought it could make us look more than a bunch of inbred morons.'. _But, nonetheless, Hermione smiled at the gesture because it was sweet, and gave a curtsy back to the boy.

"My name is Sirius Black." introduced the boy with a even more impish grin, still holding onto her hand after the bow.

Hermione didn't react more than blinking, but all the same had a flash of the laughing face of the much more haunted, and broken face of an older Sirius Black, falling backwards through the veil.

"Hermione." responded Hermione, grateful that she hadn't stumbled at introducing herself for the first time to a person was so close to her, or at least Harry...

The fact that it was to a man that had been dead for over a two decades for her didn't bother one bit...Or, well, would not be dead then, because she would change now. Or... Yes, thought Hermione, forcing back a yell of frustration, the tenses, just as she had predicted not so long ago, would give her a head ache in the next few days. And years. She shook herself out of these thoughts and looked back at Sirius, resisting the urge to tackle him into a hug and instead to smiled at him, then gestured to the book.

"You can keep it, I think I have enough." she said to him, grabbing at the books he still had in his arms, implying that she wanted to carry it, only to have him shake his head, and take up the rest of the books in her arms.

"No. You keep the book, and I'll carry them." he said with serious voice.

Hermione sighed, and held back a mutter of chivalrous Gryffndors, because at the moment, Sirius wasn't one... Yet.

"The book is yours Sirius. I have plenty." she said with a small shrug, once again trying to tug back her books into her arms.

He took a step back and shook his head stubbornly. With a huff, he gestured to the book in his arms and said quite plainly.

"They're all your's, kitten." in a very snobbish, and obviously fake voice.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head as she did so. She only just manged not to burst into tears because Sirius was once again using the nickname her had dubbed her all those years ago, the nickname he had only ever used if it had been just the two. She then thought for a moment, before deciding on a compromise. It was pretty obvious that they were both stubborn as rocks, no matter which of her life times.

"Alright. I'll keep it on one condition... You let me buy it.. But you borrow it before Hogwarts." said Hermione with another grin.

Sirius blinked for a moment, before he tilted his head.

"And what makes you think I would give it back?" he said with a frown, raising his eyebrow at her in a perfect arch.

Hermione returned the gesture, a smirk on her face.

"Because you offered for me to keep it in the first place, _**pup.**_" said Hermione smartly, emphasizing on the pup part in a mocking and teasing way.

It took a large part of her self control not to laugh at the fact of which animal she had used as a term of endearment. Sirius grinned at her words, nodding.

"Guess you're right..." he responded with a shrug, before sitting on the floor, and patting the space next to him in clear invitation and placing her large stack of books to side.

Hermione, like before sat, without any hesitation. Sirius, of course reacted by scooting close, a big grin on his lips.

"So, you're a bookworm, eh kitten?" he asked with another tilt of his head.

Hermione snorted, because, which ever life, he had always pegged her with that.

"Yes, though I wager that is a bit of an understatement Mr. Black." said Hermione with amusement in her tone.

Sirius barked out a laugh, that though not a deep as his adult form's, was much more lighter and carefree. Not marred by years of guilt or Askaban.

"Ah Ravenclaw is in your future then?" said Sirius, hands wiggling at her face, making oohing sounds.

This time, it was Hermione's turn to laugh, and she shock her head with a grin as mad as a hatter.

"Fat chance! That's the last house I ever want to be in." said Hermione with another laugh, because, well, it had been only by a small factor the first time around that she hadn't been put in Ravenclaw.

But... Well, though she was sure a sliver of each house was in her, the core part of her was completely and utterly Gryffndor. Eight or so years in any house would do that to any person. Sirius meanwhile was looking at her with a surprised expression.

"Well then, if you hate Ravenclaw so much which house would you be in? Well, go on tell me." said Sirius with confusion and curiosity in his lovely gray eyes.

Hermione didn't even have to think.

"Gryffndor. What about you pup?" asked Hermione, thinking that Sirius would answer the same.

She was really surprised when he answered.

"Well, my whole family has been in Slytherin..." he said a little frown on his face.

Hermione herself couldn't really believe what she was hearing, Sirius Black, _**the**_ Sirius Black was going on to say that he would be Slytherin? Her own presence aside, that was one of the most wrongest things that she had ever witnessed. Before he would make her mad by actually saying it, Hermione interrupted.

"I didn't ask about your family Sirius. I asked where you would want to be." she said with an arched eyebrow.

The look of utter and complete shock on his face almost made Hermione get up and hunt down Walburga Black, and steal a wand on the way. Hermione, as much as she wanted to, instead continued talking to Sirius.

"Because, well, you aren't your family Sirius." she finished with a smile.

Sirius stayed silent for a moment, studding her steadily with eyes that weren't innocent per say, but much less dark and haggard as his adult counterpart.

"Gryffndor. I want to be in Gryffndor." blurted out Sirius, looking shocked that he had said it.

Hermione didn't even bat an eyelash as she smiled.

"Then I look forward to seeing you in Gryffndor with me." she said.

His answering smile of pure shocked joy gave Hermione a very warm feeling. The talked, surprisingly well, despite the age gap, and Hermione thought that since he was such an obvious soul-mate as a best friend for her brother, that that was a good thing. It meant that she wouldn't want to murder him as much. It was a sad thing when her mother peeked behind the bookshelf.

"Hermione love, I know you love being here, but we have to go buy those, we have to meet up with your father and that twin of your's at noon." she said, casting a curious glance at Sirius.

Who, leaped up, offered his hand to Hermione, and after she was on her feet picked up her books, and gave a nod. As neither mother or daughter where to miss a signal, the trio weaved their way through the aisles, to the front of the store. Where they were met by a tall, imposing yet grinning man with the same features of aristocracy as Sirius, as well as a boy that was around her height, that though less handsome and paler, was an almost exact mirror image of Sirius. Regulus Black was looking at her with a sort of innocent curiosity, his gray eyes wide and happy. It made her very sad at the fact that this adorable little boy would have died only eight years from now if she hadn't been here.

"Uncle Al, Hermione. Hermione, Uncle Al. Hermione's mum, Uncle Al. Uncle Al, Hermione's mum. Regulus, Hermione. Hermione, Regulus. Regulus, Hermione's mum. Hermione' mum, Regulus. Regulus, Sirius. Sirius, that's me, Regulus. Regulus, Uncle Al. Uncle Al-" Before Sirius could ever hope to torture them anymore, Hermione placed a hand squarely on his mouth, a saccharine smile on her face.

Hermione smiled truly at the laughter that erupted form Regulus Black, which pure innocence sound shocked her.

"Shall we?" she said with grace, much to the growing laughter of the four of them.

Soon, her mother paid for her books, and made to leave. But not before Hermione shoved _Hogwarts, A History_, into Sirius' hands. Ignoring both her mother's and the Blacks' look of confusions. She then scurried off with her mother, already out the door when she heard a shout behind her:

"Wait! Hermione, how will I tell you apart from your twin?" screamed out Sirius, his head poking out of the shop's door.

Hermione grinned at his worried his expression.

"He's a boy!" she shouted back, turning around and not looking back as she and her mother made their way to their next stop.

While her mother entered a shop hunting out two sets of crystal phials, Hermione wandered toward the Apothecary, which was their next destination, and right next door. She was headed right for the door, when she noticed a boy around her age just siting near it, Indian style, looking so utterly bored and lonely. Well, thought Hermione with a grin, she really couldn't have that, and sat right next to him, coping his style of sitting. The poor boy almost jumped out of his skin, and looked at Hermione with wide, golden eyes. Which were set in an adorable face, that was pale and sickly, with the smallest hints of scars webbing throughout it. His hair was a light honey blonde, and was neatly combed, despite that his bangs were a little long and fell into his lovely eyes, and though he was sitting down, Hermione knew that if standing, the boy would tower over even James and Sirius. His robe was a little worn, but obviously well cared for, and a lovely midnight blue. She knew him, and though his death, just like Sirius' flashed before her eyes, Hermione couldn't help but be so happy at meeting him, as he had be so very dear to her.

"Hullo." said Hermione with a large grin, particularly bouncing up and down at meeting him again.

Remus Lupin gave her a very shy, and very small smile, and it was all of Hermione's will power that prevented her from giving him a hug, or a kiss on the cheek, as she was so accustomed to do with his older counterpart.

"Hullo." he responded quietly, obviously very shy and nervous.

Hermione knew it was because she was probably one of the first children for him to ever talk to, as his condition had probably prevented him from much contact with children his age.

"I'm Hermione." she said hand held out in front of her.

He only hesitated for the briefest second before he took her hand and shook.

"Remus." he said in that hoarse voice of his, made higher by youth.

Hermione beamed, and in turn, his smile went up a small bit.

"So, going off to Hogwarts too?" she asked curiously, even if she already knew the answer.

His smiled shifted a little into a frown, but it then shifted once again into a smile.

"Yeah, I suppose I am..." he said with an shrug that was clearly meant to be indifferent.

Hermione knew him better than that, and saw by the sheen in his eyes that he was amazed that he was going at all. She scooted closer to him, and ignored the way he tensed slightly. She smiled at him, trying to put him at ease.

"So, tell me Remus, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Gryffndor?" asked Hermione.

Remus paused, seemingly to think before blurting out:

"Gryffndor... I like to think as myself as brave." he said with a very shy and small smile.

Hermione, once again beamed at him, knowing how very brave indeed the boy that was Remus Lupin was indeed.

"You are very brave Remus. Because I'm sure we'll be housemates." said Hermione with a causal shrug.

She didn't miss the startled look he shoot her, or the fact that it looked as if someone had banged him over the head. She wondered briefly that if she murdered Fenrir Greyback now in the most painful way possible if she could get away with it...

"Remus?" asked a soft and gentle voice.

Both children looked up to see a very pretty woman that looked startling like Remus, save that her eyes were a very soft brown. She was smiling, and looking back and forth between Hermione and Remus with obvious pleasure.

"Hullo ma'am." said Hermione, hopping up to shake her hand.

Remus followed suit, and got up to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek.

"Hullo... Who's your friend Remi?" asked Mrs. Lupin.

Remus blushed, and opened his mouth looking like he was about to protest, which Hermione would have none of.

"Remi's friend is named Hermione." said Hermione with a smile, pleased at the look of sheer joy that crossed Mrs. Lupin's face and the shocked one of Remus.

Mrs. Lupin placed a delicate hand on her son's shoulder, before smiling a little at sadly Hermione.

"Well Hermione, I'm sorry to say that we have to take our leave. Have lot's to buy." she said with a sad tone in her voice.

Hermione just nodded, before turning toward Remus.

"See you in Gryffndor, yeah?" she said a little shyly.

Remus smiled in the sweetest way possible, and Hermione saw a small bit of mischievous in the sparkle of his golden eyes.

"Yeah, see you in Gryffndor." he said, waving as he walked away with his mother.

Hermione watched him leave with fondness, before she turned toward the store and pushed the door open. Like many of the other shops of Diagon, the Apothecary would not change much in forty years, in fact, it wouldn't change at all, from the various ingredients to the grumpy and gloomy man behind the counter. There was something that caught her interest in the other wise dull and smelly shop, a little plump boy was gazing at the various wares of the shop, a potions book tucked under his arm. He looked to be bit younger than Hermione, and looked completely happy with his surroundings. His plump and round face was a little plain, and his baby blue eyes were a bit watery, but his hair was a wonderful golden blonde, that in even the gloom of the Apothecary shined a bit. Hermione, in both of her lives had had dark hair, and was a little jealous of it. But, nonetheless, she still walked up to the boy and noticed his confusion as he gazed at a plant in front of him, as if he was trying to figure out what it was, and Hermione only had to glance at it to know exactly what it was. It made her faintly smile at the memories of Harry it provoked, and of her own, of her first potions lesson.

"It's called Wolfsbane." said Hermione with an ease .

The boy gave a very startled squeak, and jumped about a foot in the air, his potions book, which Hermione noted was the first year book, was placed in front of his slightly plump body as if to shield himself, and his small eyes were wide and very, very startled.

"Wh... Wh...What?" stuttered the boy, his brow furrowed.

Hermione felt endeared by the boy's strutter, and like with Sirius, resisted the urge to garb at his cheeks and coo.

"Wolfsbane, or, if you prefer, Monkshood, or even aconite. It is a highly dangerous plant, and very poisonous..." said Hermione with a shrug.

The little boy looked awed at the fact that she knew so much, and gave Hermione a very sloppy and large toothed smile that reminded her a bit of her own original one, or at least the smile that had graced her before the age of fifteen.

"Awesome! How do you know so much?" squeaked the the boy in a voice that was almost as high as her own.

Hermione gave a shrug and smiled at the little boy.

"I read a lot." she said wiggling her hands at his book.

The boy gave a small giggle, another one of his sloppy smiles creeping up on his face. He held the book with happiness, and Hermione noticed with a blink that the book was worn and looked to be second hand. In fact, his clothes looked to be second hand as well, as his robes were a slightly odd looking orange, and it looked to be a size or two too big for him. It made Hermione, while not pity him, be understanding of his slightly frighten manner.

"So do I, but I can never seem to remember anything!" said the boy in a matter a fact tone.

Hermione just shrugged, and gave him a sympathetic smile. He paused for a second, before giving her a sloppy smile again, though this time it held a shy side to it.

"My name is Peter Pettigrew." he said in a shy tone, bobbing his head up once in introduction.

Hermione, froze, stiff and gave herself the will not to grab the aconite and shove it down the boy's throat and see him gasp for breath as he died once again of suffocation, no matter how tempting it was. Because, it was just that... He was only an eleven year old boy, not the foul, murdering little _**rat**_ that killed off her brother. Or would have killed off her brother, and would have left Harry an orphan. It was a little boy that was introducing himself to her, a fellow eleven year old that she did not just plan to murder for the crimes he hadn't even committed yet.

"Hermione." she responded as calmly as she could, and hoped he hadn't noticed that her voice was much more colder than it had been just a second before.

He didn't. If there was something that Hermione could say, it was that the young Peter Pettigrew was not the sharpest tool in the shed, though he did like to read. The rest of the time Hermione spent with him was a little cynical, but she did honestly enjoy his company, if she had to be honest to herself, but every second she spent with him had her analyzing him to death and trying to see even a hint at his future counterpart. She found none, and only saw that Peter was a very shy, nervous boy that was self conscious with his wealth. He was a bit of mixture of Ron and Neville, though Peter leaned more toward the latter. It made Hermione wonder just what had pushed this little boy to the edge of betrayal. She was pulled away from that thought when he was picked up by his mother, who was a severe looking plump woman, lips thin and full of disdain as she looked over Hermione's fine robes, but eyes obviously full of love as she guided Peter away. He waved to Hermione with that adorable little sloppy smile, and she lamented that he would have had a very dark path to travel if he had become what he had.

Her mother found her a moment later, quiet and thoughtful looking at the various wares of the store and wondering what exactly was she going to do in the next few years. She knew of course that she had to get rid of the five Horrcuxs that were currently floating around. She was a little relieved that she only had to deal with five, but she was still a little nervous. She only had two confirmed locations of the five, and the rest could be anywhere...

"Hermione love? It's almost noon, we have to hurry over to Madam Malkin's to get your school uniform, then we have to meet up with the boys." said her mother, as always pulling her away from her thoughts.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face and turned toward her mother without another word, and followed her out. It was a quiet, but thankfully quick walk to Madam Malkin's, and Hermione entered it a little drained, as she had just seen the Marauders, all alive, none of them marred to the harsh degree as the ones in her past life time. It was a little disorientating. She had though that she was prepared, and though she hadn't botched it up to any degree at face value, underneath she was trembling. Five months with James and her parents may have made her a better actress, but it hadn't made her a calmer person emotion wise. It was most likely that she had adapted better towards James and her parents because unlike Sirius, Remus or Peter the Potters were figures that she had never met in her previous lifetime. They were all more obscure legendary figures, not people she had known and seen as true humans. She had never seen their emotions and moods, or seen their character.

"Sev, I promise that we'll leave soon enough, just wait a bit will you?" asked a loud, high voice that made Hermione's head whip up.

_Of all the bloody freakn' people_ thought Hermione with wide eyes. There in front her was a group of six people, all in muggle clothing and all talking and chatting. But, only two people caught Hermione's serious attention. A boy and a girl, the former maybe only an inch or two shorter than her brother, and the latter probably her height. The girl was dressed in a white summer dress similar to her own, and was at the moment standing on top of a stand, and was waiting for her fitting, her hair was a gorgeous red color, not a Weasley or orange red, but a true, dark red, very much like the color of blood, and settled to rest on the girl's thin shoulders. Emerald, dazzling almond shaped eyes stared out at the world, or more importantly towards her best friend. He was skinny, thin to a point of almost being sickly, and had long, lank hair that reached just a little past his chin. His nose was hooked and long, and looked very odd against his childish face, which was not at all ugly, and held no malicious sneer. No, the young Severus Snape held a slightly bored look, though he wore a small smile towards the young Lily Evans.

"Come on dear." said Hermione's mother, leading her over to the stand that was directly next to Lily.

Hermione hopped onto it without comment, suddenly very shy indeed to meet the these two people in particular. She had never known one, and the other had been, while not hated, had been strongly disliked. Both of them at the moment were looking at her, and took all her will power not to flinch at the look of two of the bravest people that had ever graced the planet. One, for the son they would never see grow up. The other for the woman he had loved but had never been with. Their stories were tragic, and intertwined, and far to short.

"Hogwarts too?" asked the pair of them, oddly in unison.

They glanced at each other a gave a brief smile, before turning back to Hermione. She swallowed thickly, and tried not look anymore nervous than a person would while meeting someone new, and nodded.

"Yes..." she muttered quite shyly and softly.

She half expected Snape to shift into his older Potions Master counterpart, and say:'Five points from Gryffndor Miss. Granger for wasting my time and not speaking clearly.' But, since he didn't and only gave her a smile, a _**smile**_! A small one, more polite than anything, but a smile nonetheless. It was a rather crooked smile, a little yellow, and not completely straight, but it was oddly endearing, and paired with Lily Evans' soft and beautiful smile made for a rather good picture.

"Nervous?" asked Snape politely, titling his head to the side, his dark eyes full of curiosity.

Hermione thought it was very odd to see Snape so full of expression, but pushed that aside, because as of this moment he couldn't be seen as Severus Snape, one of the bravest men she had ever known, but as Severus Snape, the young eleven year old that was her peer.

"I guess you could say that." responded Hermione after a moment, a small smile appearing on her lips.

Next to her, as to pair of witches came with long black robes and put it over both her and Lily's heads, Lily herself seemed to practically vibrate with excitement.

"I can't wait to be there." blurted out Lily confessing to Hermione with a large beaming smile on her face.

Hermione having been a muggleborn in her past life could understand her excitement, and smiled.

"I can't either."she said, this time in unison with Severus.

That made her blink and look at him, in which he returned the favor, his brows as high as his hair line and her's surely as well. Then, he smiled. Not the small polite smile of before, but a true, soft, shy smile that made her almost cry as she returned it. In a decade he would have become such a harsh, horrible and broken man. She suppose the catalyst to that would have been his breaking apart from the Lily, and though she of course had never liked Severus Snape personally, she deiced that she would save him that pain. She hopped he wouldn't be too furious when Lily started to date James...

"I'm Hermione." she said as a witch adjusted the hem of her robe.

With a small look at each other, they turned back to her with smiles.

"Severus." "Lily." said the pair of them, in unison.

It made the three of them laugh. The rest of the fitting was spent in a pretty much loud chatter, and like the children before them, Hermione found that she enjoyed their company. Hermione, sadly, was the first to finish her fitting and gave a very sad wave goodbye as she left with her mother. They soon found both her twin and father, in not surprisingly, the Quality Quddtich Supplies shop. After much coxing, the female Potters still had to drag away the male Potters to have lunch in one of the many cafes Diagon Alley had to offer. It, like most Potter meals, wasn't a quiet affair, and was spent mostly listen to James complain the fact that they couldn't own a broom as a first year. As soon as they were done, they all headed of to the next shop on their list, which had James very excited, because as it turned out, he was a great animal lover.

On the brief walk over, Hermione thought of all that she had experienced today, and knew that her head was reeling, and her heart beat to a very dangerously and rather uneven beat. Part of her simply just wished to fall to the ground, and sob. And not just a small pity sob for her situation, but a hard, body retching, snot inducing, and blotchy faced monstrosity of a sob that would leave her numb from all of the emotions that were coursing through her. And all because of what those old, yet new faces would have gone through if it weren't for her. She was not being melodramatic, nor trying to put herself off as the grand savior, or heaven forbid it, the _**Chosen one**_. It was just quite plain and simple. Every single one of those innocent, and maybe not so innocent, considering some of their backgrounds, would be dead if not for the simplest fact that she was here. It was quite possible that she wouldn't save them all, _**hell**_, that was the most bloody likely thing to happen.

Causality was always a part of war, and while at the moment their was no war, instead just a calmness of normality... But with a man like Tom Riddle, who had ripped apart his very soul for the foolish sake of immortality, one was surely to come. After all, there always is a calm before a storm.

**AN: I don't own either J.K. Rowlings characters, story or really anything was so ever... Unless you count copies of all her books? No? Well, then, no I don't own anything. For another thing, this wasn't actually the original end for the chapter, it originally finished off with Hermione at Ollivanders, but, well, the length of the chapter was getting into the double digits, and I had to cut it at this point. Wouldn't want to bore you...I still have much of the rest chapter already done, I just have to modify it a little to be an actual chapter, and finish it off. Then You'll have your chapter five... Oh, I kinda want to point out that the chapters up to seven are a filler on the real action. That's when I bring out my big writing tools(Insert Evil grin here)... Anyway, if you bothered to read my AN, thank you, and hopefully you'll bother to review?**


	6. The Flames and The Phoenix

**Chapter Five: The Flames and The Phoenix**

Magical Menagerie in itself had only changed by becoming smaller to Hermione, as the one that she had seen shopping for Rose had had been rather large, and had a total of two rooms after it had bought out the store next door. Other than that, the same loud, crass crowded features of the shop wouldn't change in the least. The walls were still lined with various tanks of glass, as well as dozens of cages, all with various magical animals of different sizes. For the most part, the animals wouldn't change at all. The odd and enormous purple toads croaked at times, and the large ravens chattered amongst their unkindness loudly. She spotted the large and disgusting orange snails, which if she was correct were quite poisonous, and looked to be a type of streelers. She wondered how on earth they manged to keep them the same color... She also noticed offhandedly that the transforming rabbit was absent, as well as the Puffestiens, though a small sign saying sold out was perched near the empty tank that had held them. She ignored looking at the sleek black rats, because they were a bit show offish, and never failed to remind her of how sick 'Scabbers' had been in her third year. She too, didn't look at the cats too closely, because they reminded her of Crookshanks... She was a bit surprised to see owls as well, and wondered when they had stopped selling them... A different woman was minding the shop, much younger than the old and bespectacled woman from before and looked to be the owner. She also looked utterly annoyed, her head in her chin and a her glaring dark eyes rather reminiscent of an irate Potions Master.

James, of course took off like a shot the second he set foot inside the shop, a shout of glee escaping him as he searched for his familiar, their mother trailing off behind him with a knowing look of worry. Her father and her shared a slightly knowing look before following as well. While it was true the Potters did not Mollycoddled their children every minute of the day, they did so, more so Beatrice Potter. They trusted their children, or really more Hermione than anything to handle themselves. But... Well, they were some dangerous animals in the shop, and James had the same knack as his son to find trouble. And of course, Beatrice Potter was not, at all a stupid woman. She was right on target, as she had to untangle James out of a bunch of constricting and thankfully nonpoisonous snakes, after he had tripped and tipped over their tank. James looked rather put out, as his mother and the irate shop owner removed a particularly large snake from around his neck. Her mother also repaired the broken tank with a sigh and a flick of her wand, while the shop owner levitated them in. Again, Hermione and her father shared a knowing look, and sighed in unison. Hermione for one, was glad it wasn't her, because she had discovered that like James, she had the knack of getting into trouble. She wondered dryly if it was in Potter genetics, because in her previous life she had only ever gotten trouble by association with Harry.

After apologizing to the owner, and the promise not to touch anything without an adult's right next to him, James scampered off to resume his search of a pet, not looking at all sheepish of the mess he had made. He was quick to find a barn owl. It was a very large, and the feathers were a combination of light brown, beige, and gray, off set by white. James seemed to have fallen in love, and let it rest upon his shoulder. The owl seemed to have fallen in love as well, and nibbled softly on his ear. James just gave their parents one look, hazel eyes looking oh so innocent and pleading. They gave him a nod, and because of that James had his knew familiar. He had deiced to call him Mouse, for ironic reasons. Hermione unlike her brother took her time and glanced at the various animals with little interest but much care, and ignored her family's advice and looked for her familiar at her own pace. She had never had a familiar after the death of Crookshanks, and wasn't very keen or sure if she wanted to start. He had been her constant companion, and had been loyal to her for over seventeen years, and the last six before her death she hadn't so much as looked at a pet shop, other than for her own daughter's needs. She had all ready checked for Crookshanks as well, and knew him not to be here, at least just not yet, though she swore to look in every year to check...

But as Hermione looked around, not surprisingly, she did not find anything that suited her. No owl was in her taste, and though the cats were all adorable, none of them were her Crooks. She didn't so much as look at a rat, because, well their was to many bad memories with that animal. She also didn't look at the toads with much interest, because well... It was a toad... Nothing else in the shop was in her interest either. She was ready to give up on getting a familiar all together when she turned toward her parents, a frown on her lips.

But before Hermione could say anything, she felt something very large, and very heavy tackle her, preventing her from saying anything at all, as it had the gall to land directly on her chest. Her breath was torn out of her lungs, and Hermione couldn't get oxygen into her fast enough. Images of other heavy things on her flashed through her mind, and not really thinking, she started to fight. It wasn't the fight of an eleven year old with some heavy animal on them either. No it was the fight of an woman of thirty-seven years who had not only had been in self defense lessons since her early twenties, but as well as one that had survived through a brutal war. It was all thrashing, and all well placed kicks, along with a few direct punches. Hermione barely registered that her mother was screaming, but focused on getting what ever was on her_** off**_.

She only stopped fighting as she caught the very serious look that intelligent eyes was directing at her. Her thrashing stop, she didn't pull a punch and her legs stilled as she caught what exactly was on her chest. And all over again, her breath left her, but only because she was surprised. It seemed like pure fire. That was all really Hermione could call it, whatever was it that was staring at her and on her was made of pure, honest to Merlin fire. Gold, red and orange flames licked at her chest, flickering and dancing across her chest, burning with a such a bright light that it almost blinded her. It was gorgeous, formless ball of flame that didn't hurt, instead felt soothing, and cold, yet impossibly warm. It didn't feel like the spell of a flame tickling, but it just felt soothing, and wonderful. And while it didn't have a face exactly, it did have a lovely pair of large fiery cobalt eyes... Hermione could have sworn that it was smiling at her.

"Oh! Oh, Bloody _**hell**_! Bad Nar,_** bad**_!" screamed the owner as she noticed what had happened, running over and spraying the large ball of fire with water bottle repeatedly.

It hissed at the woman, and climbed off at Hermione to hiss at her heels, the flame growing slightly bigger as it did. Hermione got up, shock on her features. The ball of fire stopped hissing at the owner, and gave Hermione a leveled look, before jumping with a stunning grace onto her shoulder, in mid leap swirling and shifting into a form of a small griffin, making a sound that was very close to a bird's chirping as it landed, the small griffin's head nudging lovingly into her cheek. It gave a swift lick with its fiery tongue. Hermione thought the flame creature looked rather like a patronus in animal form, as it was just as graceful and fluid. Except that it was, well, fire. Her mother let out another faint scream, while her brother and father looked stunned. However, for Hermione felt something click inside her as she looked into the creature's cobalt eyes. She had only ever felt this feeling once before, with her Crooks, and somehow knew that regardless of what this creature was, it was hers now.

"It's okay... He's not going to hurt me." said Hermione with a smile to her parents, hand tentatively reaching out to stroke the cold flames experimentally.

The fire creature made a sound that sounded oddly like a mixture of cat's purring, and a bird's chirping, that though odd, sounded very lovely indeed. Hermione stroked the creature in earnest, enjoying the musical coo that the creature made. The woman who owned the store was looking at Hermione with a simply flabbergasted expression, that quickly shifted into annoyance and wariness. Hermione ignored the look, and looked at the woman curiously.

"What is he by the way?" asked Hermione curiously, because for once in her life she had no idea.

The owner of the shop's lips thinned and she scowled. She seemed very put out indeed, and rather reminiscent of Minerva Mcgonagall, with her thin lips and all.

"None of your business girl!" snapped the woman, glaring.

She moved to take away the small fire griffin, only to jump back startled when it shifted into a ashwinder serpent and hissed at her, posed to strike. The woman glanced at her for what seemed like an eternity, brows lifted. She looked very very annoyed, and very shrewd as she glanced back and forth between the now flamed serpent and her. She then quite suddenly turned around, and disappeared behind a door with a sign that said Employes Only. She came back a second later, a slip of parchment in her hand, and looked once again at Hermione with a distant shrewdness.

"Is your name Hermione?" asked the woman softly with a very displeased look in her eyes.

Hermione blinked, and frowned at the woman's tone. But she nodded nonetheless.

"Here look at that when your alone... Are you going to pay for that Owl and the fireball or are you just going to loiter around my shop with them?" she said snapping at the other Potters, while shoving the piece of parchment into her hands.

Hermione stuffed it into her robe pocket, and turned to her family. The Potters could only blink in surprise at the woman's words before looking over at Hermione. She nodded, and once again petted the creature on her shoulder with a small smile on her face. Her mother looked like she was about to protest, but her father put an hand on her arm and just lead her mother away, James tottering after them looking as if he had been Confunded. Her family headed for the counter, and they paid for both Mouse and the 'fireball', which was surprisingly cheap. The woman pulled Hermione aside after a moment, and gave her a very serious look, mouth thin and scowling.

"Okay, I have to tell you right now girl, be careful, that little fireball is more or less safe, and won't catch anything on fire unless you get him very very furious. I suggest you don't that. His name is Nar and he is a very powerful creature that has been sent to guide you, do not abuse him, I don't care what the hell my Guardian has said, your a child and you need to be warned." said the woman in a very serious voice, and very severe.

Hermione looked at the woman for a second, eyes wide. Her mind was racing,and she processed what the woman said for a second before she blurted out:

"What do you mean your Guardian?" Hermione said, heartbeat roaring in her ears.

The woman gave her a surprise, smiling a smile that though small, was startling soft. She seemed a little pleased at the question at least.

"I'm a Ward, child." said the woman a little gruffly, but not unkindly.

Hermione was in a slight state of shock. Another Ward was in front of her! Granted, she didn't exactly know what that meant, but she knew it was important. Her hand unconsciously went to her the necklace around her neck, tightly clenched at the ankh. It made her a Ward. Death's. It was symbol that proved that she wasn't insane, that her past life had really happened. That she was... Or at least had been Hermione Granger... She wondered what being a Ward really meant, but she also wondered who was the Guardian of the shopkeeper...

"Who's?" she asked a moment later, a little breathless.

The woman snorted. Hermione looked at the woman just as shrewdly as she had been looking at her, and looked for the woman's own symbol, and found it soon enough, as the woman flicked back the long yellow sleeve of her robe. There, on the woman's lower arm, exposed by the woman's movement, was a bracelet. It, unlike Hermione's was quite large. It was very detailed, as it was formed by what looked like intertwined snakes and stag antlers. A very large, very noble looking stag head was at the base, staring at her with primal eyes. She shock off the feeling of remembrance of Harry, and focused on the woman's words.

"I'm not as special as you child, Death is not my Guardian. I am a Ward to Faunous, the one that guides over animals. I know you don't know what that means, but then again, I don't either." said the woman with a shrug.

Hermione processed this for a second before asking:

"We aren't that rare are we?" in a soft, but firm voice.

The woman gave her a sharp look.

"We aren't rare no, at least, from what I know. _**We**_ are rare that we know that we are Wards. And _**you **_child are even more rare because you have been chosen by more than one of the higher ones, Death and the Fates." she said with an gleam of dispassion in her eyes.

Hermione took this in silence, and then nodded.

"Alright... Do you know why I am what I am?" she then asked curiously toward the woman.

She shook her head in negative, a frown upon her lips. She once again gave Hermione a shrewd look.

"No one is to know, child. I am no exception. All I know is that five months ago Faunous, the great bloody prat, dumped Nar on me and told me to wait for the one called Hermione. And to treat her with respect, oh and not to make her cry because she was a Ward of Death." said the woman in a blunt tone.

Hermione, again took this in silence, and nodded once more.

"Hermione Potter to be exact." she said dryly, extending her hand out to the woman.

The woman looked at it for a second, before taking it and giving it a firm shake.

"Amanda Green." said the woman briskly, almost shoving Hermione's hand out of her own.

Hermione looked at the woman's dark eyes before blurting out:

"So, what is Nar again?" with a frown on her lips.

Amanda looked at the fire on her shoulder, this time in the form of a small common welsh green dragon, tail wrapped around her neck like a scarf. He was lazily flickering, and his cobalt eyes were half lidded, seemingly in pleasure.

"Living Fiendfyre." snapped Amanda, clearly annoyed.

Hermione spluttered mouth agape, the last time she had had this thing near her she had watched someone die, and nearly had died herself! She looked very swiftly at Nar, eyes wide, and her hands came up to get him _**off**_. But, as she looked on at Nar, who had lifted his narrow head and look at her with peaceful, intelligent eyes, she could tell that he wasn't exactly the like the curse Fiendfyre, but a different variation of it. Maybe even the original source of it... He wasn't hostile from what she could tell at least...

"What does he eat?" mused Hermione after a moment, somewhat grimly amused at the fact that she had something so deadly on her shoulder.

Amanda snorted, flicking her short blonde hair out of her dark eyes.

"From what I can tell anything. Be careful with him child." responded back Amanda dryly.

It was Hermione's turn to snort.

"Do you think I can tell my teachers that my Living Fiendfyre pet ate my homework?" asked Hermione just as dryly.

Amanda only shrugged, before shooing her out of the shop, and telling her to stop by next summer, because she didn't know any other Wards to speak of. With one last look at the tall, and curvacious woman, Hermione left, Nar still on shoulder. She reached her family with a sort of peacefulness, and waved to Amanda as she headed away to the last stop on their trip. She easily ignored the startled glances that people shoot her new familiar, and kept her eyes on the prize, placing one foot steadily in front of another. She was finally getting a wand, something in the past five months had made her feel very, very vulnerable and naked. A witch without her wand was like a bird without wings, and Hermione so desperately wanted to fly again.

"Can I touch him?" asked James suddenly to her right, eyes ablaze with curiosity and directed at Nar.

Hermione nodded, but shoot her brother a warning look to be careful. Nar purred again, this time in the form of a Persian cat, arching into James' hand as he petted softly, laughing and seeming pleased with himself, his hazel eyes sparkled with joy, and he grinned cheekily at her, before the expression disappeared from his face. He looked at her with envious eyes behind his red glasses.

"You would get the awesome fire creature..." pouted James after a moment, rather put out.

To her left, her mother frowned, dark blue eyes narrowed with displeasure. Hermione faintly thought that it was amazing that for such an elegant and elderly woman, her mother could like very reminiscent to a furious dragon.

"I don't think it was wise to buy him... We don't even know what 'he' is! Why did you do it William?" asked her mother in a sharp tone, giving her husband a displeased glance.

The senior male Potter took his wife's glare with ease, and gave her a steady look in return. He too reached out toward Nar and gave him a gentle pet. He was silent for a moment before he spoke:

"Because he chose Hermione, and familiars choosing, no matter how strange should not be ignored, that would be disastrous. You know that Bea... Besides, why would we deny Hermione, it obvious how much she's taken with...Nar was it?" said William Potter, her father, in that loud, and soothing baritone of his.

Beatrice Potter huffed, and stalked off, toward the wand shop in a faster pace than the rest of them. In the end, they made it to Ollivander's fairly quickly, and both the younger Potters entered with a little hesitation, stomachs turning in excitement. Without needing to ask, both of them reached out for the other, their familiars on their shoulders, and hand in hand. The first thing Hermione could think was that it wouldn't change in the course of four or so decades. The same sort of hush whispered across the shop, and Hermione could feel the magic of the wands, almost like a an echoed whisper in the farthest corner of her mind, hovering across her skin. The little hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she fought not to shiver. Ollivander in the center of the shop as well, was almost unchanged by time. Though it did look as if a few of his wrinkles had disappeared, and maybe his hair was a touch thicker, for the most part he hadn't changed. He gave her and James a steady look, and Hermione was grateful that she had gotten to know the man a little in her past life, because his large silvery eyes looked much less intimidating in that light.

"Welcome. Mr. and Miss. Potter. " he said in a serious tone.

Hermione saw out of the corner of her eyes that James gulped, and his hand squeezed her own tightly. Hermione returned the gesture without so much as flinching, knowing that her brother was very, very nervous. Without another word, Ollivander snapped his fingers and a measuring tapes rose and stared its job on James. Hermione almost applauded at Ollivander's causal use of wandless magic, but refrained and settled for staring steadily at him. He was gliding from in between the towering shelves with a grace of a ghost, piling wand after wand in his arms.

"Mr. Potter, which is your wand arm?" asked Ollivander softly.

James paled, but said his answer nonetheless:

"Right." in a small tone, head down.

Hermione could only think two things. One, that it was so odd to see her brother so meek, and the other was that Ollivander was strangely very brisk today. Hermione couldn't quite place why he was asking so... off... Other than the fact that it might be because a highly flammable looking thing was resting on her shoulder. Ollivander did keep looking at Nar with a look that strongly suggested that he was about set the shop on fire. Hermione trusted Amanda, not much, but she trusted the woman enough to know that Nar wouldn't set anything on fire... Without good reason, at least from what she could tell. After a moment, Ollivander came back and placed in a wand in James' right and spare hand.

"Willow, Ten inches, and rather stiff, unicorn hair core, very good for defense work... Why don't you give it a wave?" said Ollivander calmly.

Hermione knew, or at least knew from Harry's memories that it wasn't going to be James wand. So did, aparently Ollivander. James had barely lifted it when Ollivander snatched it ouch of his hand, shaking his head and tsking.

"No, no... Try this one, vinewood, nine inches, dragon heart-string, swishy. Well rounded wand..." said Ollivander.

Hermione's heart roared in her ears as with wide eyes she watched James almost wave her wand, before it too was snatched up from his hand with a another tsk on the Ollivander's part. Ollivander prattled on about another wand, handing it to James, but Hermione ignored this, eyes set on the wand that had been set aside. Her beloved wand that had served her so well, part of her wept at the sight of it, laying very innocently on the spare stool, just waiting for her. Almost unconsciously she was reaching for it. It was in her hand when she heard a polite huff. She looked up to see Ollivander staring at her with a very polite form of irritation. Her hand tighten around the cold wand, and she felt her stomach drop. Were was the warmth? The tingle of magic that always came with picking up her wand? _**Were was it**_? Hermione dropped the wand with a very pale face, suppressed tears in her eyes as Ollivander gave her an even sharper look, and picked up the wand. He placed it very firmly it a box, before closing the lid, and giving her once again a sharp look.

"Miss. Potter, please refrain from touching the wands before I hand them to you. They are very delicate in temperament before they choose their wizard, and I doubt they would like for a child to fool around with, especially when they are not _**suited**_ for said child... Now, Mr. Potter, try this wand, mahogany, eleven inches, unicorn hair, and pliable, very suitable for Transfiguration..." said Ollivander matter-of-factually, a displeased look on his face until he tuned back to her brother, handing him the wand that was his.

Hermione barely felt her father place a hand on her empty shoulder, and give a reassuring squeeze. She also barely recognized the fact that Nar's dragon tail passed by her her eyes and dried the tears before they had even fallen, and cooed softly in her ear. No, Hermione only focused on the words that Ollivander had said... _Not suited. __**Not **__suited_... Those words echoed in her mind as she watched her brother give a loud laugh of joy, his newly suited wand giving off golden and red burst of magic. He had found his wand... But, so had she! _**Why**_ wasn't it responding to her? Why was it taken from her! She jumped very surprised when the measuring tape started to measure her, and she looked up to see Ollivander once again walking amongst the shelves.

"Now, Miss. Potter, as it is now your turn, which is your wand arm?" asked Ollivander with slight distaste in his voice.

Hermione only just suppressed a sob before she composed herself, shoving away all her emotions, and giving Ollivander a very cold stare.

"Left."she bite out, a frown on her still colored drained face.

Some part of her mind mused at the fact that in this life, she was left handed, instead of right. But most of her focused on Ollivander as he came around and gave her a wand. It didn't work, much to her glee. She just wanted her wand... But, she knew that in this life time... It just wasn't her's. Her wand wasn't her's. It made her want to cry. She didn't. Instead she waved which ever wand was given to her. And with something reminiscent to Harry's wand shopping experience, wand after wand was given to her, half the shop seemed to be piled around the stool. Ollivander seemed to warm up to her at that fact, a small smile appearing on his lips as he said:

"Tricky customer eh? Not to worry, we'll find one for you yet!" in a warm and gleeful tone, silver eyes sparkling.

Hermione simply gave him a leveled look, and waved which ever wand was given to her. It went on for quite a while, before with a frown, Ollivander gave her a look of startled denial.

"I wonder..." he muttered, before running back amongst the shelves.

Hermione took the opportunity to gaze at her family, and suppressed the mad notion to giggle at the sight of them. Her mother was sitting next to her father on the floor, Indian style and looking rather comfortable, speaking in small tones, hands firmly clasped together, looking like newly weds. James was flicking his wand and making sparks come out with a bored look on his face, and Mouse perched on his head, looking fast asleep. Nar, on her shoulder, gave a soft sound that sounded very reminiscent to a chuckle, and snuggled into her face, giving her a warm feeling. Ollivander announced his presence once more, with the almost silent sound of his footsteps. Hermione turned, and blinked as he dusted off a thick layer of dirt off of a thin, long box. With a that look of startled denial, he opened it, and handed her the wand. She didn't have to hear him explain his properties, because she knew them by heart.

"This is an rather unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple..." said Ollivander in a soft voice, his usually misty eyes piercing.

Hermione throat felt dry, and she struggled to swallow. With warmth feeling in her hand, and the tingle of magic electrifying her blood, she gave Harry's wand a wave. Sparks flew. Gorgeous, enormous sparks of gold and crimson shot out of Harry's wand, and Hermione fought back a whimper. She didn't want it... But it was her's. She couldn't deny the feeling of belonging with the wand in her hand. Besides, sentimental feelings aside, the phoenix wand had saved Harry's life more than once, so it was bound to do the same for her. She ignored the sick feeling in her stomach. Her family clapped loudly, and James a big whoop, dazzled by the large sparks that had, and still were, shooting out of Hermione's, new wand. She made it stop, flushing with embarrassment because she had let her magic go so causauly away from her.

"Bravo! Bravo... Curious..." muttered Ollivander, his wand coming out and flickering towards the large pile of wands, which zoomed off to be placed once again on the shelves.

Hermione didn't dare ask what Ollivander meant by 'curious'. She didn't want her family discovering that she had Tom Riddle's twin wand, after all. She watched as Ollivander wrapped up their wands, and placed it in their mother's hands. Her parents payed for the wands, and they left, Ollivander bowing them from the shop, still muttering curious. Hermione didn't look back, and let her family walk ahead of her as they walked back to the public Floo. Her hands went into her robe pockets, and she heard the crinkle of parchment. With a curious glance at her left pocket, she pulled out the slip of parchment Amanda had given her.

Hermione's dark blue eyes widen, surprised. She didn't allow her face to show anymore emotion. With a quick glance around, Hermione once again reached for her robe pocket, and pulled out her beaded blue bag, opening it, and stuffing in the slip of parchment, hearing the tell tale whoosh as it zoomed off to be organized.

Hermione congratulated herself at inventing that spell, as it had helped a lot of the years, and tired to ignore the tingle she felt at the nape of her neck, knowing she was being watched, and hating it. She scampered off to join her family, and ignored the words that were echoing in her mind, and trying to forget the elegant, old styled script that had stated:

_Well be watching. _

**AN: Okay =D. Another chapter done. Granted, not as long as the last one, but hey, this was suppose to be part of the last chapter... Which would have been around... Oh, lets say twenty two pages, yikes! So yeah, I please with the separation =D. Once again, I like to state that I own nothing of this, no matter how much I wanted to... And know let me ask you guys a few questions:**

**1.)What do you feel about Nar, is he too weird of a Familiar for Hermione?**

**2.)What is your opinions of the Wards?(that going to play a big part of the story, by the way...)**

**3.)And lastly, who in the bloody hell should Hermione end up with at the end? I know its too early to ask, but I not really sure who it should be, Remus, Sirius, or Severus. It prefer it to be one of those three, but I'm open to anyone you say (with in reason of course, don't go saying Dobby or something like that) and I'm curious to know who would you guys chose...**

**Anyway, moving on. I like to thank anyone who reviewed, and like to ask for you guys to please continue to do so. That aside, I like to say thank you to anyone who is reading this, it makes me very happy that you do.**


	7. Hogwarts Express And A Jolly Old Hat

**The Hogwarts Express and A Jolly Old Hat**

It was on the day of September first that Hermione Potter opened her deep blue eyes, and let out a very soft sound, which was mixture between a sigh and a whimper. She gazed at the sheer canopy of her bed, and couldn't help but think that it was too bloody early to get up, because she knew by the little light that was in her room that the sun was barely starting to rise. While she was usually an early riser, today was a day she didn't really wanted to get up at all. She groaned, and rolled over, her face in the pillow. Part of her hoped to suffocate and end her torture now, she was sure that Death wouldn't be too mad with her, and she really didn't give a flying hell what the Fates thought at this point. They had denied her her afterlife, after all. That fact didn't exactly add any brownie points with her... But.. Well, it was a vain hope for Hermione, because she would never want to die by something as pathetic as suffocation, and she would never let Harry live through all this madness again...

She flipped back over, and looked at the star dotted ceiling with some reluctance. Today was the day. Hogwarts... She was happy to be going of course, after all, it was **_Hogwarts_**! The place that had been more of a true home than anything, and that had taught her so much... But... Well, for one she would have to face Dumbledore. She had no real idea how she was going to, Occlumency or not. She could already see his twinkling blue eyes, staring at her own blue eyes and breaking through all her defenses, discovering her all of her secrets... And like the man that always wanted the 'greater good' he would erase her memories, render her a vegetable, and then use them at his leisure. And save the world all over again, and.. and... And... _Oh, no... I'm turning into Moody... _Whimpered Hermione in her head. If she started screaming '_Constant Vigilance!_' she was going to hex someone.

Preferably James, because the little prat had charmed her hair red and gold yesterday screaming about Gryffndor, somehow managing to steal his wand from the locked cabinet her mother had kept them in. Her mother had been smart in locking away their wands, because admittedly both of them managed to get enough trouble without magic, or at least, purposeful magic, but then again, her mother hadn't know that her son could pick the lock, which is probably why she hadn't warded it magically. Hermione didn't want to admit the fact that charming her hair had been very admirable feat of magic at his young age, or the fact that he had picked the lock was a useful thing to know... Or the fact that he begged for her forgiveness by giving her 'her' wand as well as lessons for lock picking was a very good way to go. She still wanted to get revenge on her twin.

And, if she admitted it, she was going to get it when he would least suspected it... Maybe a prank? Part of her snorted at that, she was going to prank a Marauder... Granted, he wasn't one yet, but if yesterday was any indication at how powerful and creative her twin could get, she had a feeling that the next few years at Hogwarts were going to be very interesting indeed. She could only hope that it wouldn't be mostly directed at her. Preferably not at anyone that was close to her either...

She didn't know how, but she was going to try and stop the whole Marauder versus Snape thing, if she could. True, she had never really liked Severus Snape, but she had respected him, to a much higher degree than she could ever admit to Harry and Ron. He was not necessarily close to her in any sense either, other than respect and sorrow for a brave man dieing for a love that was never his... But she always was one to look out for the underdog, and Snape was an underdog in every sense. She was a little hesitant at all to talk to him, since she knew that half the time she would expect points from being taken away, but, well, if she was going to save him from the path of destruction that he had been heading in before then she was going to have too. And most likely a lot of talking at that...

She sighed, and was pleased when she heard that odd noise of chirping and purring softly in her ear. Hermione looked up to see a curled ashwinder like Nar wrapped delicately around her head, his cobalt eyes staring straight at her with seemingly something close affection. When her hand reached out to touch his smooth and sinewy body, Nar gave something close to what sounded as a hiss of pleasure, before the chirping purr over took the sound. He was like liquid beneath her small fingers, and then suddenly her was all fire, turning formless and winding around her hand with another chirping purr, blazing up her arms in a slow and lazy movement. Hermione observed that it looked like her arm was on fire, and she sat up, twisting and moving Nar over and over in her hands. It was beautiful, mused Hermione as she twisted Nar even further, pleased that he seemed to be chuckling as she twisted him this way and that. It was then that Hermione heard a knock on her door, which made her jump out of her bed, and Nar to leap onto her shoulders. She ran to the door. She didn't bother with a robe, because, well, what was there to see? She opened the door, after quickly pushing her raven hair out of her face.

Not many people knocked on doors in the Potter household, it just wasn't necessary. So when Hermione saw the house elf, Booker, she wasn't surprised at all. Booker was larger than most house elves, Hermione knew, as he was actually only a head or so shorter than herself, and he was much more burlier, with his odd skin straining over his muscles. He was dressed, Hermione was pleased to note, in a nice wrapped cloth that all of the Potter elves wore, toga style, with the crimson Potter crest on the bottom of the hem. She hadn't been very pleased at all when she had discovered them. Because, she well, she didn't _**want **_them. But, she knew she had no choice, because well, she was a Potter, and though elves didn't have the same rights as they did in her time, she was going to treat them with as much respect as possible. She had already learned all their names, and was set in gaining a friend in all of them... Part of her wondered what on earth had happened to the elves of Potter in her past life, but she ignored that part and beamed at Booker.

"Hi! What's up Booker?" she said in a falsely cheery voice as she leaned against the door frame.

Booker himself bobbed his head down as he gave a blush, and Hermione knew it was because she was so causal with him. He gave her a crooked smile.

"The Mistress wants the lil' Mistress to get everything ready." said Booker shyly.

"Tell Mum I'll be down in a minute, please?"

Booker nodded nodded, and then walked a little ways away down the hallway that connected to James' room, before Hermione smiled, and called out to him:

"Oh, and Booker? I told you a million times, call me Hermione..." she said in a soft tone, with a disarming smile.

Booker bobbed his head, blushing, before he frog marched the rest of the way to her twin's door, without another word. Hermione just giggled quietly before she turned around and prepared for the day. She didn't put on her school robe, or any robe at all and instead put on a simple red summer dress, musing as she grabbed it that she owned all dresses and skirts... And that was something she had to change that almost immediately, and get her hands on some jeans. While she didn't hate dresses or skirts, quite the opposite really, but well, she had to be practical, she wasn't going to bring Riddle down in a dress after all... She grimaced slightly as she remembered that skinny jeans wouldn't be very popular at the moment, and that she would find mostly bell bottoms and hot-pants in this era... She mused briefly that as a solid product of growing up in the nineties, she was going to sure as heck make sure to get herself a pair of doc martins... And maybe even two? She shook her head as she slipped on her converse, grateful that these still were popular, no matter which era...

When Hermione was dressed to her liking, she looked around her room, picking up a few odds and ends to put I her beaded bag, before she paused, and looked down at her dress in dismay. No pockets. She frowned... And then smiled. Kicking off her trainers, she went for her wardrobe and took out a nice red blouse, before running to the door, down the hall, and into James room. It was a room that she knew Harry would have love, and much like her own room, and in fact much like the rest of the house, was in the color scheme of Gryffndor. And, it was any eleven year old boy's dream room, with loads of space and plenty of Quidditch things lying around. At the moment the room's owner was under the bed, his long and gangly legs sticking out as he rummaged and said a few words that Hermione knew would have their mother clean out his mouth with a decent scrubbing charm if she heard.

But, really she just sped over to the wardrobe, which like her own was large and had a vague resemblance to the wardrobe of Narnia, though unlike her's, his' had a golden tone to its wood, which made Hermione think as she rummaged through her brother's clothes that was a theme with the Potters. Hermione got the scarlet of Gryffndor, and her brother got the gold... She smiled as she found a pair of her brother's pants, and cheered silently as she felt the large pockets. Perfect. She may not be able to transfigure some into her dress, or into any of her skirts, but she could always steel from her brother. Whistling a merry little tune and skipping out of her brother's room, Hermione changed in her own room and placed her beaded bag, ever important, in 'her' pant's pocket and slipped back on her shoes, before heading to the door, where she paused. She looked out at the spacious and space and wondered at the fact that only six months ago, this room had become her's.

In fact, her whole new life had become her's the second she had woken up... She touched her pale face, and smiled a little ruefully missing her old life and face, before turning around and not looking back to her room... After all, she had a life time to look at it. For the sheer novelty of looking around at the path way to the first floor, Hermione didn't take the dumbwaiter, taking small steps as she glanced around at the causal wealth and abundance of scarlet and gold around her. She smiled. This was to be her life? Somehow, it didn't seem to bad, at least, not with her family around with her...

"'MIONE!" screamed out a boisterous voice, filled to the tee with excitement and joy.

Hermione paused in her wonderful feelings and looked back to see her brother thundering downstairs, grinning from ear to ear and a such a bounce to his step that Hermione had to giggle at the look in his bespectacled face.

"'MIONE, 'MIONE, 'MIONE!" screamed James with a slight jig to his foot, bouncing down to the step she had stopped on.

Hermione merely smiled, and raised an eyebrow to her brother, which made him, if it was even possible, grin wider as he slipped his arm around her waist. She slipped her own arm around his waist and together they walked at an very out of character pace the rest of the three flights of stairs. Though their eyes wandered every where at their childhood home, both of the Potter's real attentions where on the fact that they were both leaving it so soon to become actual witch and wizard. One was so stunned at the fact that they were going again, and why they were sent here in the first place... The other was just so excited at the fact that he was finally going to meet some other wizarding children their age, as their mum and dad hadn't exactly been the most social people with others of their kind, mostly because people they had known well and had been the most social with either long gone and lost in the Great Wars. Either that, or their own children had long flown the nest and were much older than themselves, and didn't make for good play mates... So, yes, both Potter children were most excited... Just for different reasons.

When the both finally did reach the ground floor, they were as silent as the most mournful of ghosts, smiles on each of their faces as they walked on to the dinning room, where both their mother and father lay waiting. As always, their father was hidden behind a large Daily Prophet, mumbling a few odd words about stupid papers and stupid voters, their mother too was seated and was shifting some plates on the table, sipping delicately on her coffee, obviously waiting for their arrival... When she saw them, she only lifted a brow, then smiled and jerked her head in the direction of their usual seats. Again, as if by magic, both of them where suddenly in their seats, and were eating. One with gusto, the other with delicacy of someone that wasn't very hungry. Their hands were still firmly clasped together.

Sometime later, with their trunks in their parent's hands, their familiars on their shoulders, and their own hands clasped firmly to each other, the Potter Twins grabbed at their parents' spare hands and waited for the ever familiar feeling of being run through a tube, and they appeared in a alley way just across Kings Cross with a loud pop. Hermione didn't bat an eyelash, and neither did her brother. As far as Hermione could figure the Potter's were more prone avoid the floo... She found that she didn't hate this fact and strolled, still hand in hand with her brother. She really did _**hate **_the floo. Nar slipped into one of her large pockets, with a quick fiery lick to her face, and her parents slipped Mouse into a cage just before they left the relative safety of the alley and then, they were off.

Once inside, her mother and father directed both she and James to the ever familiar spot between platforms nine and ten, and Hermione smiled slightly at the memory of Rose bouncing up in and down holding her hand as she speed through the wall. She frowned slightly then, remembering that just past the wall, she had died. Or, she _**would have**_ died in a few decades. Bugger... Would she still die she wondered suddenly? Or is she even going to be born as Hermione Granger? _**If **_she was meant to be herself again, that would have to mean that she had to die in this carnation of herself before 1979. What a loud of bollocks thought Hermione, frowning. Did she really have to die so much? She snorted, and half listened to her mother explain how to get to the platform. When she finished, she gave her brother a huge grin, and then they both took off like a shoot, not even flinching as they approached the wall. They melted through like they both knew they would, and James' hazel eyes sparkled into her own as he let out a small whoop of excitement. His eye turned away from her own, a smile playing on his lips as he did.

It was then that James' froze, hazel eyes widening and his jaw dropping open. His face pale face flushed a brilliant red, and he suddenly grip her hand tightly in his own. Hermione blinked. Then she turned her gaze to whatever James was gaping at. When she saw exactly _**who **_it was, Hermione blinked again. Somehow, when James pulled her further into his side, and whispered into her ear, awestruck, Hermione was only the tinniest surprised at his rather emotional response to their fellow eleven year old.

"She's... Oh... 'Mione! 'Mione... That's the girl I'm gonna marry... Without a doubt..." whispered James with such awe in his voice that it froze Hermione in the spot.

She looked over at the laughing Lily Evans, and felt her heart constrict. This soon? It was then that James started to see Lily that way? She looked over at her brother and smiled, somehow touched that Lily could have enchanted him with just a glance. She was witnessing Harry's parents' rather legendary relationship... But, at the moment they were simply elven year olds, so Hermione grinned cheekily, and puckered her lips at her brother, making kissy noises. He grimaced and flushed even further at her teasing, before trying to tackle her to the ground... Trying the keyword there, because Hermione had sidestepped her brother with reflexes a mixture of both her older self's and Harry's. She grinned at the rumpled heap her brother made on the tiled floor. And then squealed slightly as he went for her legs, screaming like a banshee, knowing that she couldn't get out of the way in time.

Hermione felt strong arms grab at her upper arms, and pull her out of the way, and she tumbled into a warm and rather tall body behind her. James landed in another heap on the floor, and Hermione laughed as she turned to see her rescuer. Her blue eyes meet some brown ones, and she meet the grinning face of a third year or so, already in his school robes, which marked him as a Ravenclaw, his fly away dirty blonde hair reached his shoulders in a disarray. Across his neck was a arrangement of butter bear caps, and in one of his ears Hermione saw a radish hanging.

"Watch out, eh? That boy there is infect with a serious case of the Iram-Nitous!" said the boy in a sort of dissonant voice.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at the boy with a confused smile.

"I'll try and keep that in mind?" she said in confusion.

"Xeno, hurry up the compartment will fill up!" called out another Ravenclaw boy.

With a merry wave, the boy, Xeno was off, and a swearing James behind her stood up, dusting himself off with a blushing face. Hermione frowned in the direction the boy had gone, displeased a bit at the man that had almost gotten her and the boys killed in exchange for his own daughter. She really didn't blame him, but even after all those years Hermione had felt very put out with Luna's father ever since the incident in his home. Again, she couldn't blame him, but she would have to be very careful with him in the future, even if he didn't have much reason to use her as a bargaining chip this time around.

"'Mione! Why do you have to keep moving out of the way..." whined James leaning into her, draping himself around her shoulders.

Hermione snorted.

"You expect me to just stand there and take then?" she asked with a wiry smile on her lips.

"Yes." dead panned her brother.

She snorted once again, and turned just in time to see her mother and father coming through the wall, slight frowns on their faces. She blushed, and she realized that both she and James had run without warning into the platform. She nodded in apology to her parents and they nodded back, her father rolling his eyes in fondness with a smile on his face, while her mother just snorted at her children's antics. Soon, they found a compartment that was empty, and once their school trunks were settled as well as Mouse, Hermione felt her parents' embrace, and she felt her brother squished against her.

"We're so proud of you, oh, how proud we are to see you going off to Hogwarts..." sniffed her mother, and Hermione knew without looking that she was crying.

"Your mother is right James, Hermione, you have no idea how happy we are to be seeing you go off to Hogwarts." whispered their father.

Hermione was embarrassed to think that her own eyes were gathering tears, and she shrugged them off with a cheery smile. Her parents lingered embracing them for a moment longer, before a shrill whistle sounded, they let go of them, and gave each of their children a kiss on each of their cheeks. Both she and James boarded the train and leaned out the window. When it started to move in a slightly lurching motion, they tucked themselves back in, wary of getting hurt, and then they pressed their noses against the glass to see their parents disappear as they rounded a corner. They then looked at one another, and gave themselves a quick hug, before settling onto the seats. James sat next Hermione, who settled in a slight angle next to the window, pleased that from her position she could see all of the compartment, and that next to her she had a ready exit.

Nar then came out of her pocket in a steady and liquid movement, resting on her thin lap in the form of a fiery cat. She petted him absently, and listened to her brother chatter on about Lily, or "the red head babe" and about Hogwarts a mile a minute,. She smiled easily at the right parts, half her mind on the door, looking for possible threats. At one point they both slipped into their plain Hogwarts uniform, and Hermione was grateful the large pockets, were she slipped in her beaded bag. When the door opened in a quick moment awhile later. Hermione tensed in her window seat, and reached inside her pocket were her and Harry's wand lay waiting. She relaxed as Sirius Black's hooded gray eyes met her own. With a whoop and a large smile he came inside already in his school uniform, and sat across from her in a lounging motion, handing her Hogwarts a History.

"Hey Kitten." he said with an even bigger smile, flicking his head with aristocratic elegance to get his jet black hair out of the way.

Hermione snickered slightly when her brother beside her tensed, looking back and forth between Sirius with wide hazel eyes and his red glasses slipping down his nose. She tucked away her book, slipping it into the beaded bag.

"Hey Pup." she said with a smile.

"Oi! Who is this 'Mione?" said James with a pout.

Hermione rolled eyes at her brother's rather adorable pout.

"His name is Sirius, we meet at Flourish and Blotts, where you have never set foot in, o' twin of mine." said Hermione with a pitying shake of her head.

James gave both her and Sirius a serious look.

"I'm a allergic to books, I break out in these horrible hives, all big and with this icky purple plus!" said James, waving his arms around in emphasis.

"Pus, Jamie. Pus. The word you are looking for is pus." said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

James blushed while Sirius gave out a small snicker.

"That too."

The trio laughed, and then Nar moved from her lap to the top of her head, in the shape of a very large puffskien, and Sirius let out a swear that raised Hermione's brows. He leaned back into his seat as far as he could, hooded eyes wide and trained on the purring mass atop Hermione's head.

"What is _**that**_!?" asked Sirius with a gaping mouth, pointing at Nar.

Hermione and James looked at one another, then at the astonished Sirius.

"No idea, but his name is Nar." they said in unison, mysterious smiles on their faces.

Sirius just continued to gape.

"He's mine, isn't he lovely?" said Hermione with a cooing noise.

Nar jumped back into her lap at the noise, purring contently, as Hermione petted him, a long and characteristic tongue of a puffskien coming up to lick her face. Sirius after a moment seemed to compose himself, he gave her a look with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Doesn't he... Burn?" he said with a frown, rubbing his wrist absently.

It was then that Hermione glanced at his wrist to see a burn scar that, from what she could see, wrapped around his entcire wrist. She had to suppress the onslaught of fury that came at her, because Hermione would know those type of scars anywhere because hadn't Ron come home with the often enough? They were the product of a stinging hex... Her eyes flickered back to Sirius when he tensed, his robe sleeve flicking back down over the scar. He gave her a slightly panicked look. She just gave him a kind smile, and petted Nar once more before offering him to Sirius. He flinched back.

"He won't burn, or hurt. Go on, touch him." she said with the most gentle smile she could muster.

Sirius blinked, flushing slightly, before his hand came out to touch the puffskien Nar. Hermione was very proud that he didn't flinch or tremble, and that he gave her a bewildered look, before petting Nar in earnest. He gave him a small hum of pleasure, and then he gave Sirius a lick to the face, before shifting into a ashwinder and slithering down Hermione's arm, and landing into her lap delicately as a puffskein again.

"Wow..." whispered Sirius, awed.

Hermione couldn't help but give him a beaming smile, loving the expression on his face. Suddenly, the door of the compartment opened, and once again Hermione's hand went to her wand, and she wished that she had a wand holster... She blinked at the sight of a slightly tearful looking Lily Evans, who whipped at her eyes with her hand, glaring at the floor as she sat down at the very end of the compartment. James tensed beside her, and Sirius looked at Lily with curiosity. Hermione motioned them to keep talking, which they did, she then dumped Nar onto the blushing James' lap, before moving to sit beside the tearful muggleborn.

"Lily right?" she said in a soft whisper, touching her shoulder.

Lily flinched slightly looking at her with those great big emerald eyes of her's. She sniffed and looked at her, as if she was trying to figure out just who she was, before a spark of recognition hit her.

"Hermione?" she whispered, sniffing once again.

Hermione gave her a smile, nodding her head.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

Lily gave her a miserable look, whipping at her eyes again. Her lower lip trembled.

"My sister thinks I'm a freak." she whispered with a glare.

_Ah_... Thought Hermione with a frown. She had forgotten that today was the day that Petunia would first say that to her sister... And then to her sister's son so many years later...

"You're not." she whispered to Lily, patting her shoulder gently.

Lily smiled at her, a watery smile of course, but a lovely one nonetheless.

"Thanks... It just, she's my _**sister**_, and I never thought to hear that from her..." she whispered with a sigh.

Hermione gave Lily a slightly rueful smile, knowing that Petunia Dursley nee Evans was a right jealous bitch... Not that she would say that a loud, as it would get her in trouble for knowing the name of someone she had never met... In this life time at least.

"Siblings can be a right pain in the butt, but they'll come around... I mean, my brother James can be a right prat, but he's not terrible." she said with a wink.

Lily laughed, before jumping in her seat when the compartment door slid open. And in came Severus Snape, already in his uniform and with a frown and slightly frantic look on his face. When he spotted Lily, his poster relaxed, and when he saw Hermione, he gave her a quick and small smile. He sat down across from them.

"I don't want to talk to you." sniffed Lily, looking away from him and steadily at Hermione.

"Why not?"

"Tuney h-hates me, because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?"

Lily threw him a look of dislike, and Hermione's head reeled at the deja-vu that was happening.

"She's only a —"Severus caught himself quickly; Lily, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, did not hear him.

"But we're going!" he said, unable to suppress the exhilaration in his voice. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

She nodded, mopping at her eyes and unable to stop herself from giving him a half smile at his words.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," said Severus, encouraged that Lily had brightened a little.

Hermione tensed and waited for what was next.

"Slytherin?" asked James loudly, nose twisting as if he had smelled something bad.

Hermione counted the seconds for what was next.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" James asked the Sirius lounging on the seats opposite him.

Sirius did not smile.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said with a quick look at Hermione from under his lashes.

"Blimey, and I thought you seemed all right!" said James with a look of disbelief.

Sirius did grin then.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James lifted an invisible sword.

" 'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."

James winked in her direction. Hermione cringed as she waited for what was next. Severus made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him, and Hermione resisted the urge to put her head in her hands.

"Got a problem with that?" snapped James, flushing.

"No," said Severus, though his slight sneer said otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy —"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected Sirius, throwing Hermione a grin.

She frowned at him as James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment. Bye Hermione."

"Oooooo …" James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Severus as he passed.

"See ya, Snivellus!" James called, as the compartment door slammed.

Hermione was livid as she turned to her brother and his future best friend.

"That was rude!" she hissed at him and Sirius.

They both shrugged.

"He started it 'Mione." said James with a easy smile.

Sirius then gave her a relaxed look.

"Snivellus deserved it anyway." he said in haughty manor.

Hermione gave him a disgusted look in return to both his words and causal nature. Nar suddenly hissed, jumping off James' lap and at Sirius, flames increasing in size as he was clawed at rapidly by a very large fluff ball that greatly resembled Crookshanks. Hermione smiled slightly at that, restraining herself from laughing out right at the fiery whirlwind that was attacking Sirius, who looked terrified in a way he deserved. Then he let out a very unmanly yelp. When Hermione heard that, she couldn't help but snicker, which James copied, until Nar reared up and set himself on him. He then let out a unmanly yelp of his own, which Hermione giggled at, before she stood up, Nar slipping onto her shoulders, now in the form of an ashwinder.

"Sevres you two right for being such prats." said Hermione snappishly, stalking out of the compartment with her nose in the air.

"'Mione!" "Kitten!" were shouted at her back, but Hermione ignored them and went off to look for Severus and Lily, to give them a proper apology.

She couldn't help but grin when she rounded the next corner, because heading for the compartment door were to very familiar figures... One was Remus, and the other Peter, and both looked as if they were very excited, dragging their trunks behind talking quietly. She left rather quickly, peeking into compartment after compartment, until she finally found one with only Lily and Severus. They were both talking quietly, and Lily looked very, very moody, and was in her Hogwarts uniform. _She must be where Harry had gotten his temper and brooding..._ Mused Hermione with an inner smile.

She sat next in between them, Nar slipping onto her head. They both looked at her with wide eyes, gaze directed at Nar. She brightly pretended that she didn't notice this.

"I'm so sorry that my twin James is a prat, and I'm sorry for Sirius too, they were so beastly to you Severus, and I'm sorry Lily that they were rude to you as well." she said with a nod of her head.

They only just gaped at Nar.

"_**What**_, in the name of _**Merlin**_ is _**that**_?!" squeaked out Severus with wide black eyes.

Hermione tilted her head to the side and gave a mysterious smile.

"An apology." she said brightly.

Lily mutely shook her head, mouth closing quickly as she pointed at Nar, her eyes were as wide as Severus' and she looked to be a minute away from fainting.

"Your head is on _**fire**_!" she squealed.

Hermione gave them a serene smile, before winking at them.

"It's not... On my head is a very lovely creature named Nar, and he is my familiar." she said with an air that Luna Lovegood would carry in the future.

The still gaped at her for a long moment. Then they composed themselves... To a degree.

"Is that even allowed?" asked Severus, rather rudely at that.

Hermione herself just shrugged.

"I'll find out when we get there, won't I?" she said, still in Luna's air.

Both Lily and Severus stared at her blankly, before turning to each other. They both opened their mouths as if to speak, before they just shrugged. Hermione couldn't help but think of Luna, it was just _**so**_ much fun to act like her, and that if she ever did meet both her's and Ginny's best girlfriend once again, she would encourage her beliefs. After all, most of them in the end had turned out to be true...

The rest of the train ride was uneventful, save for the introduction of Lily to wizarding sweets, and the time Nar jumped at Lily's lovely little owl, Scooby, in which Severus' cat, Salem, had defended him hissing. Nar had left him alone after that, and had seemed to sulk on Hermione's shoulders... It only a while after that that the came to a grinding halt, and cool voice that sounds suspiciously like Minerva's voice said to leave all belongings on the train. Nar slipped into her pocket, not wanting to be left

behind. Both Severus and Lily looked excited beyond belief, and they surprised her by grabbing each of her hands, and pulling her out of the compartment. When they reached the platform outside, Hermione noted a very familiar figure, looming over everyone else and calling out:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" in a big booming voice that warmed Hermione's heart.

Her willpower was almost not enough to stop Hermione from running across the platform and hugging Hagrid around his leg, or waist, or whatever she could reach... But with the slight cool warmth of both Severus' hand and Lily's, she stopped herself, but not the huge grin that formed on her lips. The collection of eleven year olds followed Hagird down the familiar path to the boats, or at least familiar to one of them, and when the rounded the last corner, the collective gasp of the first years as they set eyes on Hogwarts castle for the first time sounded around Hermione. Who herself held back the tears, because inside her, something was singing, _I'm home_.

She looked around at both Severus and Lily, who looked so awestruck that it touched her heart. She squeezed both their hands, and was pleased when they both squeezed back, both their eyes flickering to her, smiles on their faces. It was then that James came into her line of sight, looking around and seemingly a little frantic as he most likely was looking for her. She smiled, and let go of Severus' and Lily's hand, whispering:

"Wait."

She jumped onto James' back, her arms and legs wrapping around him with an ease that indicated that she did this a lot, which was further proven when James grabbed her thighs with and ease, balancing her on his back.

"Gryffndor?" she whispered into his ear, ignoring the stunned look of the future Marauders, Lily and Severus.

She didn't have to see James' face to know that he was smiling.

"Without a doubt." he whispered back.

Giving out a whoop as James bounced to the dock, Hermione still on his back, screaming out a whoop of her own. Hagrid gave them a bemused smile behind his tangled beard, which Hermione returned whole heartily, winking at him as he screamed out:

"No more'n four to a boat!"

James jumped into the nearest boat, Hermione swearing underneath her breath silently, as she was still on his back. He settled onto a seat, but didn't let her get off of his back even when she nudged the back of his head. With a sigh, Hermione waved over a rather reluctant Severus and Lily, and gestured into her and James' boat.

"Wanna share?" she said with an easy smile.

They looked at her with looks as if they thought she was crazy, which part of Hermione knew she was, at least to a degree.

"He'll behave." she said easily, hitting her brother in the back of her head.

"Cross my heart." said James with a apologetic smile.

Severus and Lily shared a look before they climbed in, just in time as well, as Hagrid shouted out:

"Forward!"

The tiny boat gave a slight lurch, before gliding effortlessly across the surface of the black lake. When they reached the sheer cliff on which Hogwarts stood, Hagrid shouted them to tuck their heads down, which most did, save Hermione, because she knew that only Hagrid's head would touch ceiling. The little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face, and they were carried along a dark tunnel, which Hermione knew would be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles Hagrid checked the boats as people climbed out of them, and Hermione have expected him to find Trevor the toad nestled in one of them.

After Hagrid checked to his satisfaction, he lead them passageway in the rock the only real light being Hagrid's giant lamp. Coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle, they walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hermione felt that her face would hurt very much after this, as she couldn't help but beam, because she knew who was just behind the door.

"Everyone here?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once, just like in her memories. And again like her memories, a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. Though she was a decades younger than she had last seen her, and no longer the motherly friend as she had been, Hermione couldn't help but beam at the sight of Minerva McGonagall.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, with a polite nod of his head.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." said Minerva in a no nonsense tone.

She pulled the door wide, and Hermione once again let out a beaming smile at the sight of the entrance hall. Minerva, or Professor McGonagall, as Hermione knew she would now have to call her again, lead them into the light room off to the side of the dinning room, and waited patiently for the speech she knew her old friend had one day confessed to making up her first year as Deputy Headmistress.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room." she said with a stern look, catching her breath before starting again:

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours... The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She gave Hermione and James' wild raven hair a look, as well as a stern look at Severus' rather dingy appearance, before going off to fetch the Sorting hat. Hermione smiled after her, and giggled at the sight of everyone else nervously fixing their attire, and how they all huddled together in like sheep, protecting themselves in numbers. Soon afterward the ghosts glided in, making their introductions and scaring the wits out of Lily, who clung to her arm like a life line. Soon Professor McGonagall came back, the Sorting Hat in hand.

"Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to start." she said in a sharp voice.

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line,and follow me. " Professor McGonagall told the first years, who did so, and followed after her with meek looks on their faces.

James was behind her, Sirius, Remus, and Peter followed closely behind, and Lily was in front, with Severus in front of her. They entered the most wonderful place to dine, the Great Hall, and Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on a three legged stool, and everyone, save for most of the first years, waited for what they knew what was next. A slit in the hat opened wide, like a mouth, and began to sing:

"_In times of old, when I was new,  
__And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted  
United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning  
To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning.  
"Together we will build and teach"  
The four good friends decided.  
And never did they dream that they  
Might some day be divided.  
For were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin__and Grffndor?  
Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there, so I can tell  
The whole sad, sorry tale.  
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
Whose ancestry's purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest"  
Said Gryffndor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name."  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot  
And treat them just the same."  
These differences caused little strife  
When first they came to light.  
For each of the four founders had  
A house in which they might  
Take only those they wanted, so,  
For instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning just like him.  
And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffndor  
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest  
and taught them all she knew,  
Thus, the Houses and their founders  
Maintained friendships firm and true._

So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
for several happy years,  
but then discord crept among us  
feeding on our faults and fears.

_The Houses that, like pillars four  
had once held up our school  
now turned upon each other and  
divided, sought to rule.  
And for a while it seemed the school  
must meet an early end.  
what with dueling and with fighting_

_and the clash of friend on friend.  
And at last there came a morning  
when old Slytherin__departed  
and though the fighting then died out  
he left us quite downhearted.  
And never since the founders four  
were whittled down to three  
have the Houses__been united  
as they once were meant to be._

And now the Sorting Hat is here  
and you all know the score:  
I sort you into Houses  
because that is what I'm for.  
But this year I'll go further,  
listen closely to my song:  
though condemned I am to split you  
still I worry that it's wrong,  
though I must fulfill my duty  
and must quarter every year  
still I wonder whether sorting  
may not bring the end I fear.  
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
the warning history shows,  
for our Hogwarts is in danger  
from external, deadly foes  
and we must unite inside her  
or we'll crumble from within  
I have told you, I have warned you...  
let the Sorting now begin."

Hermione listened to the words she had heard again and again since her fifth year and sixth, the one that the Hat sang only in times where Hogwarts was in great danger. She smiled thinly as the hall exploded into applause around her, and as the Hat bowed to each of the tables. Warned indeed. The sorting was as all sortings where, and Hermione watched as children she had know as adults, and some she didn't go through the sorting with little interest. When it the hat called Sirius up, he walked past her with a pale face, which made her grabbed his hand. He looked over at her in confusion, where she gave him a serious look.

"You are Sirius." she whispered, before she let go of him.

He walked the rest of the way with a flushed look, stumbling onto the stool. The hat screamed out a rather loud:

"GRYFFNDOR!" a moment later.

Hermione smiled at the stunned looks coming from the Slytherin table, in the form of Sirius' cousins, and watched a stunned Sirius stumble to the Gryffndor table, where he looked at her with a slightly stunned look. She winked, at him, and turned her attentions back to the sorting. When it was Lily's turn, Hermione didn't even blink when she was put in Gryffndor too, where she sat reluctantly next to Sirius, and gave a swearing Severus an apologetic look. Hermione poked him in the back, and gave him a reassuring smile, and said:

"You're still best friends."

He smiled at her with a grateful look, before he looked at the sorting once again. Peter was next on the list of the people she more or less knew, and he too was sorted into Gryffndor... And then, Professor McGonagall called out:

"Potter, Hermione."

Everything around Hermione seemed to freeze, and her hand took out the ankh that Death had given her. She didn't smile, or look nervous at all as she headed to the stool, as she did the last time she had done this, no, she just clutched at the necklace, deep blue eyes calm and fierce. She sat on the stool as if it was a throne, delicately and firm, with her hands in her lap, she waited for the darkness that was sure to come. The faces of the students look on at her with sheer curiosity, wondering just why this Potter girl was so composed and looked so serene, yet fierce as the Sorting Hat was placed over her head.

"_Ah... Yes... Hello there Miss. Potter... Or should I say Miss. Granger? Or, even, do you prefer Mrs. Weasley_?" said the voice of the Sorting Hat in her mind, seeing into her head just like before, only this time Hermione had so much more to hide.

Hermione held back panic, tensing as she discovered that the Hat knew just who she really was... But then she relaxed, it most likely wouldn't announce her 'little' secret, since keeping it was in Hogwarts, hence the Hat's, best interest.

_Hermione... It's the only name that is truly mine, after all, _she thought to it, shrugging.

"_My my, so serious and not afraid_..."

_I am a Gryffndor, through and through after all..._

"_Indeed? How strange, you seem more like a Ravenclaw, with all the plans you have in your head to stop the time line you come from, from happening again... Or maybe a Slytherin, as you are so ambitious..." _

Hermione snorted aloud, rolling her eyes.

_Look, technically I've been sorted before, so all your musings are null and void._

"_Defiantly a Hufflepuff then, since your so loyal to your past my dear..."_

_A hat having a bad sense of humor only makes it even more annoying... And that much more flammable..._

"_My dear, you wouldn't dare... Your little familiar wouldn't do it on command either you know, he maybe loyal to you, but he won't do anything that is more than guiding you..."_

_Wait... Do you mean that even though he is 'Living' Fiendfyre he won't eat the Horrorcuxes? Isn't that why he was sent to me?_

"_He is a guide Hermione, nothing more..."_

_Oh, shit... How the hell am I going to destroy them then!? I don't think killing a __**giant Basilisk**__ and finding the Chamber of Secrets won't sent off alarms on people's heads, that there is something off about me! Because I would probably use my time in there to clear Hagrid's name again..._

"_Loyal to a fault... I can only wish you luck then, the sword of Gryffndor wouldn't be much use either, it hasn't absorbed the venom in this time line, and using it now would probably only transfer the soul into the sword..."_

_I repeat you jolly old hat, oh shit..._

"_Indeed..."_

_So what now?_

"_Find a way to destroy them and send Tom back to Death in miserable little pieces."_

_Easier said the done... Oh...My, what a temper..._

"_HE SET ME ON __**FIRE**__! You may have joked about it, but the monster actually did it!_

… _I patched you up the best I could after that you know..._

"_And for that my dear, I thank you."_

_Anytime..._

"_You know, it's a little confusing in your head, you sounded eerily like how Harry Potter is going to sound! With all the memories flying around, how do you sort through all this mess with your friend's and your own memories in here?"_

…_.Mind over matter? I think it's because this body was always meant to hold two sets of memories, though it would have been much better to have this body's memories as well, it was pretty confusing running around with essentially amnesia..._

"_Sorry, that must have been hard... How's Death by the way?"_

_...You know her?_

"_Oh, yes, me and her go way back... Gryffndor was a conscious Ward, and since he was so reckless, he came close to death so many times..." _

_What is a Ward by the way?_

"_No idea."_

_Damn... But I did kinda figured that you wouldn't know either..._

"_The higher beings are too caught up in their mystery to even tell a hat, trust me."_

_Hmm..._

"_Oh, where were we by the way?" _

_I think you were suppose to sort me. _

"_Ah! Yes... Where to then?" _

_Gryffndor, duh._

"_Do not use that futuristic language on me young lady!"_

…_. I'm mentally almost forty, and a product of the nineties, deal._

"_I will not, you deal, because you are __**physically**__ eleven years old and __**now**__ a product of the seventies!"_

…_That is so bogus?_

"_Good, now, how about we put you in Slytherin, there you can access people you wouldn't be able to in the other houses..."_

_And then the other houses would be blocked off from me._

"_Damn, good point... Hufflepuff then, everyone is friends with the Hufflepuffs!"_

_No one would take me seriously._

"_Ravenclaw?_

_Everyone would take me too seriously._

"_... You are damn hard to please you know that?"  
_

_Do you usually use such language with children?_

"_You said so yourself, you are mentally forty."_

_**Almost**__. I was almost forty. Please don't make me older than I was._

"_Touche."_

_A woman's age should not be messed with, you should know this._

"_Oh, because I interact with so many grown woman, don't I?"_

_Headmistresses and teachers._

"_Their hasn't been a Headmistress for over two hundred years, and the teachers don't talk to me."_

…_.McGonagall becomes headmistress when Dumbledore dies, so start learning._

"_Bugger, that woman can't take a joke."_

_Hey, she was or would have become my friend._

"_Those tenses are going to get very confusing, you know."_

… _I know..._

"_Poor Hermione."_

_Yes, poor me._

"_Now, since you said no to the others, Gryffndor?"_

_Yes, please, I said that over and over._

"_Right..."_

_I did! Don't go senile on me now._

"_How rude, I'm not that old!"_

_Your older than the castle, so yes, you are that old._

"_You are so stuck on the technicalities."_

_Ah, Hello, I was called the smartest witch of her generation!_

"_Apparently, it's going to be of two generations."_

_Whoopie._

"_I should announce your house now, shouldn't I?"_

_...We've been talking for a while, haven't we?_

"_Yes..."_

_Well, go on, say it please._

"_In a minute... If you have a chance, come talk to me."_

_With pleasure._

"_Don't be a stranger." _he whispered into her mind for the last time.

Out loud, he screamed out:

"BETTER BE A GRYFFNDOR!"

Hermione took off the hat carefully, feeling the whole hall gaze at her, whispering and not even bothering to clap as she hopped off the stool, placing the hat in her place. After a moment, she gave a quick curtsy to the hat, which bowed in return. She walked to the Gryffndor with even more whispers following her, and she sat next to Lily, Peter and Sirius, giving the gaping eleven year olds a smile.

"What?" she asked.

Sirius shuffled his way closer to her, giving her a raise brow.

"It took you over ten minutes with that stupid hat, he only took a second with the rest of us!" he said with a frown.

Peter gave her an awestruck look, and she shrugged.

"Hello Peter." she said with the biggest smile she could muster, which wasn't much, considering.

He squeaked, blushing.

"H-Hi."

Hermione gave him another thin smile before she turned to the front of the hall. The rest of the sorting happened just like last time, and soon James and Remus sat near her, and Severus gave Lily, and surprisingly her a wave from the Slytherin table. When it was all over, Albus Dumbledore stood up, and it was then that his blue gaze meet her own for the briefest second. Hermione steeled her mind and waited for an attack, and felt only the familiar x-ray feeling of always, and the briefest hint of curiosity from those sparkling blue eyes. No attack, not even the softest feeling of mind touches. Dumbledore started his start-of-term speech, and Hermione relaxed. Maybe this would be easier than she thought...

* * *

**AN: Don't own Harry Potter, and I lament it daily. **

**Oh God, this took me two months to write, I'm soo sorry, but it's just that I got caught up in my other things, as well as real life coming up to get me... And if anyone ask, yes, Nar is still in Hermione's pocket. Don't worry, he's fine... Oh, and why did I use the same song as OoP? I'm lazy, I hate writing poetry... And I'm not very good at songwriting. So, hence the same song. Oh, and I have this whole thing planned out until fifth year, where it's getting a little hard to think about at the moment, I'm sure as I go along it will come to me :3. Anyway, please review! Next Chapter: _Through The Years _**


	8. Through The Years

**Through The Years**

_Time flew through Hermione's newly pale fingertips like the golden grains of sands that had once spun inside her time-turner, far too quickly, and slipping past her like the briefest caresses of the most brutal and swiftest winds._

_Her time at Hogwarts, or at least her first three years past by with almost no real incident. It was strange, her first three **real** years of Hogwarts had been a mixture of discovery, wonder, the first real touches of friendship that had ever happened to her and the first touch of danger that would occur every year that followed. It had been so transforming for her, it had been her first steps from that insecure little girl that had hid behind her books, bushy mane and her large teeth, to the confident sure woman with the war in her brandy colored eyes. It had been that she had met the red haired and long nosed boy that would become her husband, the father of her two children, and she had also met the boy with the striking emerald eyes that would become her brother in almost everything, save for the pesky and elusive DNA strands. That had been her true experience at Hogwarts, that had been the one to alter her... Or, that was what one part of Hermione told herself. It was the part of Hermione that still carried the names Granger and Weasley proudly and held it closely to her soul like a life line..._

_But it wasn't really the Hermione that dominated. It wasn't really her anymore. _

_It was the faintest traces of her memory, an echo of the brave and muggleborn woman that had lived, loved, and died for the people that had been dear to her decades later after the current Hermione. Or would have lived. She of course played a part in who Hermione now was, for she could never really release her past so easily to make herself a new person, but she only sometimes refereed to herself as Hermione Granger, or Hermione Weasley, even in her head, because she somehow felt that she was, as she had told the Sorting Hat, only ever truly called Hermione. Because of all her names, that was the only thing that had really remained constant. But, even with the confusing puzzle that was her identity, Hermione did know one thing... _

_That now that she was** this** Hermione, she was going to do her damnedest to just simply make sure that the horrors she had witnessed as Hermione Granger weren't going to happen again, so that if she did die once again to be born as her former self... She and her friends wouldn't have to go through the same hell once again... Most of all her 'brother' Harry, for that man had lived through so much, lost so much, just to defeat the horrible and pitiable creature known as Tom Marvolo Riddle... After all, she was Hermione Ophelia Potter now, and Potters, she knew from past experience, were known to do the impossible..._

_Her first year at Hogwarts, though less exciting and altering than that of her past life she somewhat lamented, was just as dear and wonderful. Though at times she expected to see a flash of Weasley red hair and blue eyes peaking at her, or even the small lightning scar on Harry's face glaring at her, or even his sad mournful eyes of emerald green shinning down at her, Hermione survived amongst the hallowed and dear halls that Hogwarts had to offer without much incident nor major break down on her part. She missed them, most of all, and sadly even above her children... Which was the thing she damned the Fates the most for. Her lovely Rose and Hugo wouldn't be born, or at least, for another few decades, if she was ever born again, and if Ron had her a second time around... And it made her hate them. How could they do that... Why would they do that? For the greater good Hermione always told herself bitterly. _

_...Dumbledore no longer made her stiffen each time the infuriating, multiplying yet dear man came into her line of vision... Or at least, after the first few weeks of school... Nor had the people that she knew would become Death Eaters, nor the people she knew would die in the next few decades or so make her scream or rave and cry. They were simply her peers, her teachers, and nothing more. _

_She lived amongst the people that would become legends, she ate with them, she talked with them... She became dear friends with them... She became the best of friends with Severus Snape of all people, as well as Lily Evans. They were rarely seen apart, and in their first year they had begun a friendly rivalry for the top spot in the academic area, where Hermione held back of course, not wanting to outshine those of this decade with the knowledge of two grown people, but still allowing herself to achieve the same grades that had graced her before, if a tad bit improved even from then. Lily however, was much more talented and shined through in Charms, beating her almost insanely easily which never failed to amuse her that an eleven year old had so much knack at something that had been one of her best subjects, yet still knowing in her mind that in terms of actually performing skills, she would win, if only for her somewhat extensive knowledge, which she never used. Severus, or Sev, as she and Lily were allowed to call him, dominated the Potions scene, and showed her to take a few risks, which her old self would have never considered... And it was thrilling to see the Potions Master that had taught her so much come to be, and to teach her even more._

_Defense Against the Dark Arts was really the only place that she allowed herself to shine, and of course, on occasion Transfiguration. They were the two places that she had always semi-struggled with, and it was a problem that had taken her a little under two decades to improve, in which she did not want to falter now. She was well past her classmates caliber and in sheer power, or at least that was what she could gather, and she let herself not get too much of a swelled head, because she had the faintest suspicion that her old magical core had been transferred to her new body, which had its own magical core as well... All and all, Hermione was a force of nature, or at least she was in private and away from lessons... And she thanked only Death for this, for she was probably the one that had the insight to see that she would need a boost... _

_She spoke to the likes of Alice Underland, Frank Longbottom, who were two years elder than her, and Thea White, a girl in her grade that she knew and had discovered with amazement would later become Luna's mother... And then Prewett twins, who were like Alice and Frank, much elder than her, and were in their fifth year of Hogwarts with the likes of Lucious Malfoy, the gorgeous Black sisters, and the man who would have given her her first battle scar in a few decades time, Antonin Dolohov who shared a fierce rivalry with the Prewett twins akin to that of Harry and Draco... But she dislike Dolohov solely on that experience when she would have been sixteen, and the fact that he was so hostile towards the future marauders, because they worshiped the ground the Prewett twins walked on..._

_The future Marauders, now that was a relationship she held that she could never really describe. She... Her brother and Sirius were the ringleaders, that was for sure, and though their somewhat armature pranks that first year did not live to the what she had always heard, they showed promise, and she knew why the Weasley twins would one day idolize them, because if anything, her boys knew how to get into trouble. Sirius and James the most, but well, it surprised her to find that Remus and Peter could stir up the same amount of trouble... She loved them all, she loved their wit, their innocence, and part of her wondered how she had grown up without her brother in her past life, and wondered how strange that was indeed... Sirius, while not her best friend, was so very close, as was Remus, for they held a somewhat darker past that was something akin to her own, though not even close... Peter, was a hard thing for her to accept at times... Because, he was just a little boy, who was insecure,and somehow reminded her of a strange mixture between herself, Neville, and Ron... She would never turn her back on him without due cause, and she kept close to him, and encouraged him so she would not see him fall to those of the dark. Because she would not leave these Marauders to die like those of her time. It would not happen..._

_And she took steps to fulfill that goal. One of the first things that Hermione did was of course gather the Diadem from the confines of Room of Hidden things, and casted whatever she could to keep the effects at bay, before stuffing it into her beaded purse, praying that she would find something soon to destroy the damn thing... She researched for months, and in those months her days at Hogwarts grew less, and it was then, that without her noticing, that her first year at Hogwarts ended._

_The summer had been a whirlwind of joy, and even more research,and again to no ail had she found an easy way to destroy the Horcux, without the dangerous use of Fiendfyre, for Hermione knew from a disastrous and rather **explosive **Charms lesson, that her magical core or cores, were fairly unstable, which would make Fiendfyre... Potent to say the least. So, she looked, and looked, and waited until her second year at Hogwarts crept onto her, and she was twelve and heading off to Hogwarts with James still clutching at her hand on their way past the wall..._

_Her second year, past much like the first one, save for one tiny detail... She snuck out, using the invisibility cloak her father had gifted both her and James to find the Guant shack, which had taken her until now to brave and track down... And she got the ring without much incident or trouble, for she did not want to see anybody dead, for the dear people that she had loved were very much alive, or not born at all. The traps of the ring had been rather tricky to handle, and she had used the greater part of her power just to break through them, which had been rather fool hardy... She did get a nasty detention for being caught sleeping out in the courtyard, she had been embarrassed to see, for she had slumped next to the Witch passageway exhausted, her magical core all but gone, cursing Riddle's name, and grateful that she had enough sense to hid the cloak. The next day of classes had been a nightmare, for she had barely enough magic to walk, and she had been sent to the Hospital wing when Professor McGonagall had noticed. Another two detentions had been issued for harming herself there, and for refusing to say what exactly she had done to make her core fall to that level._

_She took it in silence, and doing as the American's say, pleading to the fifth. Her brother and the group that now called themselves the Marauders, hailed her as a heroine, and badger her to tell them what she had been doing... She did no such thing, and made sure to land them in dentition to shut them up... She had the feeling that they still thought that it had been Sev the one to transfigure McGonagall's classroom into catnip. She was lucky enough that they didn't hate each other to as much as she feared, and though the Marauders, and her two best friends didn't like each other, they kept their moth shuts and didn't outright attack each other for her sake. It made her give a sigh of relative relief, to know that that particular problem wouldn't later bite her in the arse._

_Again, her second year passed by with no real incident, she was not petrified, nor nothing scaly had died within the confines of the castle... Yet, at least, for Hermione still had to clear Hagrid's name, and maybe snag a few spare basilisk parts to aide her... The second year passed, again without incident, only filled with research, and so was the summer along with that, and without her noticing, once again, Hermione was suddenly thirteen, and was off to Hogwarts once again. James still held her hand as they walked through the brick wall to get to the platform._

_Her third year came and went. It was the quickest of all of the years, a swift, and almost nothing happened that year, no "madmen" came to terrorize the wizarding world, and even though Hermione glanced at Sirius more often that year, she hardly spoke to him, for it was sometimes to much to look at his sliver eyes. It was a good thing that he had made beater for the Quidditch team, and her brother had made chaser, for it made it easier for her to avoid them. They won the cup that year, and she remembered the wild and insane party that the Quidditch captain, Mason Wood had thrown, praising both Sirius and James as Merlin incarnates. She had never laughed so hard at the look of bewilderment on their faces when Dumbledore also awarded them fifty points for a well played game, making them win the house cup... It was then that Hermione was sent home once again, and she said goodbye to Hogwarts with a found, yet rueful smile... _

_Without her really noticing her body in those three years soon matured closer to what it had been when she had died, and she was relieved to feel more like herself again, without being trapped inside the body of a child. She wasn't the same, she was taller, more willowy, and all and all she was not Hermione Granger in any sense. She was too striking... She was too... She was too much like Hermione Potter, which suited her just fine... It only made her wonder with something close to an ache that if through the years, if she didn't die before her birth, would looking into the mirror and seeing her deep blue eyes looking back make her feel like the Hermione that had existed, and by extension the people she had known, any less real than what they had been. It was enough to drive her mad, just thinking of it. But, in the end, none of her musing mattered, for her summer faded away, and her fourteenth birthday approached, and she waited for it with a batted breath, somehow feeling that this year was going to change everything. _

_Hermione never knew just on target she was, because the shinning of black eyes, and the sober face of white watched her sleeping, an ankh clutched tightly in her fingertips, praying as they watched their little Anima that their siblings truly did know what they were doing._


	9. Summer Haze

**Summer Haze**

Muscles tightly and almost painfully tensed, and sweat upon one's brow and flesh was not a strange to her. Nor was the steady, even breath that escaped her as she let her forearms arms support her full weight, it had been a long time since she had done exactly this, she reflected as she felt her chest rise and fall again. Almost by her internal count, she thought, quickly adding up the years in her head, about three years. Maybe give or take a month or forty years. She almost laughed aloud, but she crushed it down, feeling a faint ache in her arms, back, and neck. An ache she was used to, especially lately, as with the four Marauders in a single, though massive house, peace was hard to find, and she could only really find it now, posed in the yoga stances that had been passed down from generation to generation until it reached a more corporate touch, which she had learned. Though, she did study from old Indian texts, as well as travel there on holiday and learn from true master to get a more authentic feel of the practice, they were all mostly things she had learned in that muggle class years ago. But, in essence it still was a sort of balm to her nerves, and this particularly hard position pushed her young and flexible body to its limits.

Hermione liked the challenged, she liked the taunt feel of her muscles, the meditation that it caused. The thoughts it produced. It made her feel much more centralized, and along with her every morning jog, and evening practice of martial arts made her feel all that more control of her body, and in term the relative insanity that was her life. She breathed again. She then stretched her legs upwards, relishing the familiar ache of her muscles, and she took a breath in complete serenity, that was utterly ruined.

"What, in the name of all sweet Merlin are you doing?"asked a startled voice, deep and yet still filled with the smallest hints of the haziness of sleep.

Hermione arched her legs back downward, and then in one smooth movement brought them down, jumping forward, her supple body moving easily so that she landed with much practice on her feet. She turned to the person that had interrupted her yoga session. She was surprised that it was Sirius, and shifted a little self consciously at the fact that she was only in track pants and a sports bra. He was looking at her with confusion and something else in his youthful eyes, most likely some more confusion. He was dressed in mused sleep wear, and his hair was tousled and stuck up around his head as if he had been electrocuted, and she had to fight the internal older woman from going over to pinch his cheeks at just how adorable he looked.

"Yoga. Tiger scorpion asana." was all she said, stretching her arms back and dismissing the slight pain she had in them for supporting her body weight so long, which she guessed to be about five minutes.

He blinked and lifted an elegant brow, gray eyes dark and still foggy with sleep. He yawned widely, canines pronounced. Hermione's eyes narrowed, and wondered if he had already started his transformation process, then dismissed it, knowing that he didn't even know that Remus was a werewolf... Unless he had started it before the others she wondered with a slight frown, some Black requirement? It would explain more clearly why the boys had done it so fast last time... Sirius spoke, interrupting her train of thought with his next words:

"Seems kinky." he said matter-of-factually, leaning against her desk.

Hermione laughed, knowing that Harry and Ron has said the same thing and laughed even harder when she heard the very familiar voice of her brother:

"Okay, Sirius don't you ever dare describe anything my sister does as _**kinky**_." in a hard voice.

James walked in, his hazel eyes were panicked, and he looked applaud. Remus and Peter behind him just looked amused, as they always did whenever James and Sirius had such conversations about Hermione. Which, she thought with another frown, was very much too often to be a normal conversation between a brother and his best mate concerning about the former's sister. Hermione just rolled her eyes, thinking that her life had stopped being normal quite a while ago, if it had been normal in the first place that is...

She noted that the four Marauders, as they were now known had grown quite a lot in the past three years or so. Gone where the adorable eleven year olds and in their place were fourteen year olds, going on fifteen. Her heart clenched. So much time had passed, yet not, and it seemed like just yesterday that she had met all of them, including James... She sighed as she heard them banter on about if Yoga was kinky or not, which Hermione thought for a moment could be kinky, but on the other hand was meant as a form of meditation, and was meant to calm one, not entice one... She shook her head and then focused again on them... And couldn't help but see with a sort of motherly grin that they all looked adorable in their respected sleep wear, and she couldn't help but note that they were all decked out Gryffndor colors as well. Hermione laughed again, shaking her head with her mirth.

"But you didn't see what she did! Her legs were over her head! And... AND!" exclaimed Sirius, flapping his arms around wildly.

Both Remus and Peter turned to each other, brows raised. James only spluttered. After a few moments of this, her brother turned to her. His eyes were hard and steely behind his red frames, and his face was flush with anger.

"Okay, do again what you were doing to prove this moron wrong." he said firmly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but did what her brother asked anyway, throwing herself down on her forearms in a practiced movement, arching her legs over her head like before. Their was a stunned silence, in which all four boys mouths were wide open, and Hermione couldn't help but feel like a performing monkey as Peter clapped, eyes wide with awe. She flushed at the boys lingering look at her stomach, and how James and Remus poked and prodded at it.

"See... Oga is kinky." said Sirius, eyes wide.

"Yoga." both her and Remus chorused.

James flushed to such a point where Hermione knew he would look at home in a barrel of tomatoes. Veins became prominent in his forehead, and Hermione wondered if at the age of fourteen was it appropriate to worry for your twin brother's blood pressure.

"Yoga or Oga or even bloody Noga, you aren't doing it again!" he said flapping his arms wildly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, mumbling about overprotective twins and their idiotic tendencies as James loomed over her. His eyes were hard, and his face was set.

"Jamie, calm down, it's good for me." said Hermione jumping out of the pose again, glancing at the clock and noting it was now time for their run.

James frowned, hands on hips as she stretched, getting the slight kinks out and trying to limber up her muscles a little more. She merely gave him a lovely and pouting look, in which his lower lip trembled as he caught sight of it.

" 'Mione..." he whined.

Hermione smiled at the moniker.

"Jaaaaamie." she whined in the same tone.

James glared at her for the longest time, before he sighed, hitting himself on the forehead.

"FINE! Practice your bloody Noga!" he snarled.

Hermione smiled sweetly.

"Yoga o' twin of mine. Yoga." she said in a sing song voice.

He glared even harder.

"Bloody blue eyes." he muttered, crossing his arms.

Hermione giggled, throwing her arm around his waist in a practiced movement.

"You love them though." she whispered into her brother's ear.

James whispered back:

" 'Course I do you bint, their your eyes o' sister of mine... Means they're far out." he said in a happy tone.

Hermione smiled, tightening her hold on his waist. She really didn't know how she had grown up without him.

"Morning run?" she asked to the room at large after a moment.

Everyone nodded their assent, and followed her like ducklings as she chucked on her trainers, and as she redid the lose braid she had managed to wrap her hair in the bathroom. As she walked, and she waited as they slipped into James room for a moment before coming out, dressed in running gear, brooms across their shoulders and looking at her expectantly. She smiled, feeling like a girl-scout leader as she said:

"Forward, MARCH!" in a clear happy voice.

They all chorused a: "Yes, ma'am, yes!"

Hermione smiled again at their antics and moved down the stairs in a marching, militant beat. The morning run had become somewhat of a tradition since the boys had stumbled upon her doing so at the beginning of their second year. They all slipped out of the Potter manor, each yawning save for Hermione who had been awake for a few hours yet, and they all ran to the large, Quidditch field that had been James Hogwarts homecoming gift in that year after he had helped win the cup. It wasn't a proper stadium of course, not like the one at Hogwarts, but it was the right size, which was fairly large, had all the hoops, regulation height and had a collection of smooth and comfortable stands that where only about two stories high, all which of course, following the Potter theme, where decked out in gold and scarlet.

They ran the surrounding area of this a couple of times, as smooth warm up before slipping inside the stadium to run in there a few more times. All of them were slightly winded, Peter being the most and Remus being the least. The boys then ran for their brooms, which they had left outside the stadium, while Hermione slipped inside for some food, planning on watching the boys do their thing and eat something light before breakfast. They were all outside soon enough, with Hermione in the stands. Remus came over after a while, landing gracefully next to her, and nabbing one of her pieces of toast. He smoothed on some grape jam, which was his favorite and took a ravenous bite that almost completely finished the slice. She was glad she had thought to bring out a platter of toast an another of assorted jams she thought as he soon polished off that toast and attacked another, this time with blackberry smeared across it.

"You play wonderfully Remus, I have no idea why you don't try out." she said, munching happily on another piece of toast, cherry jam filling her mouth.

"Not everybody will accept me as easily as you have Hermione." he said softly.

Hermione sighed, clasping her small hand in his large scarred one. She had told Remus she knew what he was towards the end of their first year, not wanting to keep such a secret to herself, and wanting for him to know that he was not alone nor completely feared of in this world. He had been shocked, and disgusted with himself, avoiding her at all cost. Until she had quite literally knocked some sense to him, tackling him in the hallway and then dragging him over to somewhere private to talk to him... It had been a long two hours, which had ended with the pair of them in tears and Hermione's chest lighter, knowing that Remus knew that she thought he wasn't a monster. She looked back at the boys going crazy above her, memories of other times floating in her mind as they did all sorts of flips in the air, twisting that way and that in a stunning performance.

"You should tell them, they're your best friends." she said just as softly as he had, thinking back at the way Sirius' canines had looked, and wondering if she herself should become an animagus as they would, just to help Remus...

She should have done it years ago she thought, and she should have thought of a way to slip him wolfsbane, though she knew it would draw to much attention to herself... But Remus, either one, either form was her friend, and she wished to spare him pain. She sighed, and wondered if she could tell Remus her darkest secret, as she already knew his... She smiled ruefully, inwardly cringing at his reaction once he figured out that she hadn't figured it out after they had learned about werewolf bites at all, but had known since before she knew him... Remus squeezed her hand softly, startling her out her thoughts and said nothing. Hermione sighed again.

"What don't you take a spin on the broom Hermione, I'm tired." said Remus after another moment of long silence.

Hermione locked her eyes with his, and noticed that he truly did look tired. She smiled.

"Okay Remus." she nabbed his broom, and took off in flight.

She didn't hate flying, she had found, not this time around. It was liberating. Cathartic. Almost spiritual to her... Similar to yoga but less personal. She also found that she was much better at it this time around... Not many knew that Hermione Potter was such a wiz with the broom though, or she knew she would have been recruited for her house team long ago by her over zealous schoolmates and head of house. It was a fact that both Sirius and James nagged her about every day, though she paid them no heed.

Because flying was only for her... And Harry. She flew with his grace, and natural talent, which took her own breath away. Each time she closed her eyes as she flew she swore she could feel her other brother, lingering in this world with her, flying the broom instead of her, joking about Ron in her ear and other such nonsense. It made her eyes sting with the heat of tears each and every time. It made her heart soar with a contentment to remember her past life like this, no actual sadness or horror laced her memories when she flew, which ever she choose to visit or whichever came to her as she felt the wind whipping at her hair, kissing at her flesh... And she wanted to remember the past just like this, so she could see why she was doing this whole insanity in the first place. She smiled as she took another steep dive, letting out a giggle as she remembered.

"Holy shit that girl can fly." muttered Sirius, watching as Hermione twisted and looped this way and that on her broom.

James nodded, his hazel eyes locked on his twin. He watched as she fell sharply in a graceful and nail biting dive, which made him clench his fist and his breath catch, before at last moment Hermione did the impossible by bringing up her broom sharply, just a few inches away from the ground. He felt his Quidditch senses break in and knew that if her sister had even bothered to fly in front of anyone but his and her best mates that she would be dragged, most likely kicking and screaming to be Seeker in their house team. They needed her, for she was one of the best fliers in Hogwarts, and their current Seeker was a load of tosh... Not that anyone dare say that, for all everyone knew, the boy was the best Seeker in their house. He could just imagine what Mcgonagall would do if she ever caught Hermione flying... The girl would be made Seeker in less then the time it took one to say Quidditch...

He vaguely had a hope that Mcgonagall would one day see her, just to play along side his sister, which he knew would be an amazing experience. Silently, Sirius was thinking along the same lines as his best mate, knowing that she would be a hit as a Seeker. She was lithe, supple in her movements and had a keen eyesight... He swallowed sharply, looking on as she flew to an amazing height, before free falling, twirling in some kind of mad dance, before shooting out like an arrow, arching so that she tumbled back to Remus, landing as easily as if she had just taken a step forward, giving his broom back with a smile. Remus himself grinned at the girl, and both James and Sirius both clenched their fists as she gave him a kiss to the cheek. The former because that was his little sister the guy was smooching, and the latter because he wished it was his cheek instead.

The latter flinched at the thought, knowing that if anyone knew about his affection for Hermione, he would be in trouble indeed. One, because James was an insane overprotective twat when it came to his little sister... Two, because he had a feeling, or an idea by the way Remus clung to Hermione that he had feelings along the same lines. Bugger he thought, turning to the sky to ride a bit and push off such thoughts.

Hermione herself watched her boys fly with an ease and smiled. James and Sirius were the ones easily with the best overall skill on a broom. They moved with a synchronized, and trained ease, and their loops through the air where practiced and controlled. Remus had raw talent, powerful and a little sharp in his turns but still able and quite graceful on the broom. Peter... Now that was an interesting thing on the broom, he was a bit like Ron, nerves got in the way of his decent skills. The irony that he was also a keeper did not pass her notice, and she could almost see Ron's green face if he had known Peter Pettigrew had shared the same position as him. She smiled, giggling as she pictured the green hue under his hundreds of freckles.

"HERMIONE!" Chorused two distinctive voices coming from the field bellow her.

Hermione jumped, and looked down at the field and squealed as she spotted the two figures standing on the field. She grinned, knowing that their plans of visiting her house had completely slipped her mind, and grateful for the sudden reminder. She jumped up and was tempted to jump over the rail to get to her friends faster, knowing she had enough magic to do so without breaking her neck, and that the trace, for some odd incredible reason, was not on her. It had something she was sure, to do with her situation, but she was grateful for it, and grateful she had discovered soon after she had arrived. She changed her mind to take a leap, and instead just raced for the stairs.

Severus Snape was a gangly fourteen year old, all angles and adorable scruffiness, hair just a tad greasy, but long and framing his face. Lily was a tall, shapely girl for her age and had the most gorgeous true red hair, cropped short, coming only to her chin in a curled out style, popular to the age. They both wore muggle clothes, one all bohemian, long dusty skirt following in the wind with an abundance of flowers gracing her arms, ankle and fingertips, the other all dirty punk, complete with the banged up leather jacket, combat boots, and chipped sunglasses. The two seemingly polar opposites came rushing at her the second she was on the field. They pounced, and suddenly they were in a Lily, Hermione and Severus pile, laughing at their own antics and hugging each other fiercely.

"Sweet Merlin I missed you." said Lily, clinging to her arm, beaming.

Hermione beamed back, clutching both of her best friends tightly to her. Severus looked at her impassively, no expression on his solemn face as he hugged both his best girls to him tightly. Hermione could have none of that.

"And what about you Sev, missed lil' old me?" asked Hermione batting her eyelashes.

Sev's face was blank, and he gripped Hermione's hands in his own.

"I'm in love with you Potter, let us have millions of Potter babies together and live happily ever after." he dead panned.

The duo of girls held their shocked expressions before Sev twitched his lips, raising a brow, making the girl's squeal with laughter as he gave them a fierce, but brief smile.

"I'll have millions of Potter babies with you Sev!" Hermione barely had enough breath to say that in between breaths of laughter, hugging him around the neck.

"Please don't tell me that my sister and Snivels just planned to procreate." said James, touching down on the ground with a grimace on his face.

Sirius shared the same expression, while Peter and Remus merely snickered.

"What's wrong Potter, don't you want any hooked nosed nieces and nephews?" asked Severus, drawling out with a smirk on his face.

Both Lily and Hermione giggled at the disgusted look on the latter's twin's face.

"Merlin no." muttered James, hitting his head against his broom as if to take away the images.

His hazel eyes suddenly locked onto Lily, and he smiled almost lazily, his hand coming up to ruffle his hair in a very familiar movement, Hermione counted the seconds before her twin opened his mouth again. She wondered if his foot would soon follow.

"I don't believe I've said hello Evans." he said, voice suddenly deeper.

His eyes sparkled and his face was flush, and he leaned against his broom, both arms supporting his weight on it, trying no doubt to be suave. Lily flushed, with both embarrassment and anger she was sure.

"Hello Potter." responded Lily without pause, standing up and helping Hermione up as well.

Severus was also on his feet, and nodded stiffly to the four boys. His grip was possessive on both his best girls as he lead them gently away.

"If you would excuse us, Hermione, Lily and I have plans." said Sev, curtly, dislike obvious in his tone.

James and Sirius both tensed. Hazel and gray narrowed in each of their handsome faces, and she sighed as they turned sharply for her.

"What?" asked the former, a confused look in his eyes as he looked at Hermione.

She shrugged, a apologetic smile on her face.

"Planned this for months Pup, I'll see you four later." she said happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet as both her friends lead her away even further from four the Marauders.

"Wait, 'Mione, where are you going?" called out James.

"None of your business!" called back Hermione, chorused with a grumpy Severus.

They trio all ducked back inside, and we're meet by Ophelia Potter, smiling in the door way.

"Hello dears... All set to go?" asked her mother.

Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Are you sure now?" chuckled Mrs. Potter her gazed locked on her daughter's thin form.

Hermione blinked, then looked down to her sweats and sports bra. She blushed, shook her head and tugged her best friends up the stairs with a cheery smile on her face.

"See you in a minute!" she called out to her mother.

She heard her chuckled.

"I thought so..." her mother muttered as the made their way to the staircase.

Hermione raced the rest of the way upstairs, still tugging Sev and Lily until she reached her room. She raced inside, rummaged through her clothes, in which Lily helped by nay saying things and yay saying anything, she marveled at the wardrobe and gleefully told her what she should pack for Hogwarts. Both Sev and her rolled their eyes at each other at that, and smiled each other, winking and silently giggling as they did this. It took forever for Lily to allow her to pick something, and she finally allowed her to wear a pair of red hotpants. Hermione matched that with a nice simple black top, lose with long flowing sleeves and had the thinnest thread of gold vines stitched throughout it. She slipped into the shower, ignoring the way Severus pinched his nose in impatience as she walked into her bathroom, and gestured to her library, in which her fellow fourteen year old giddily browsed through. Lily did as well, and the two parallels of fashion of this era stood next to each other looking through her enormous selection with much gusto. Hermione smiled, and took a relative quick shower, never one to take two hours like Lily did, and came out dressed, feet bare and running her hair gently with a fluffy towel.

"That was quick..." muttered Severus, lounging in her secret hid away, curtains pulled back.

In his hand was a fairly thin book, and across his stomach was Lily's head, and in her hands was a large thick tome. Hermione almost cooed at them, and tilted her head to the side.

"Why do you think I should take longer, think I'm dirty Sev?"asked Hermione, amused, as she already knew the answers.

Severus huffed and simply knocked Lily's head gently with his knuckles. Lily herself shot straight up to glare at her male best friend.

"I do not take that long!" she growled.

Severus gave her a dead look.

"You took two hours taking a shower this morning, I timed it. And then you took another hour getting ready... Not to mention you went outside to pick those bloody flowers to make into bracelets and rings." he said, obviously annoyed.

"Sev! I... You timed it?" asked Lily, flushing.

He simply nodded, and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyed habit. Hermione giggled.

"It could only be our little Lily-flower." she said with a grin.

Lily flushed darker, and she looked over at Hermione.

"You look nice by the way... Get your shoes on so we can go!" she said excitedly.

Hermione smiled and gave her a knowing look, because Lily had changed the subject. Nonetheless, she pulled on some socks and slipped on a pair of dusty leather boots that reminded her of something she had bought as Hermione Granger. She also grabbed a leather backpack across her back slipping in her beaded bag, as well as her wallet. She placed a large pair of sunglasses across her nose, and hummed with amusement as Lily slipped a few irises onto her slender fingers, as well as a couple around her left boat. Sev contributed to her attire by placing a thick studded bracelet on her right hand. Hermione couldn't help but feel as if she was a balanced fashion version of her both friends as they placed back their books, and tugged her downstairs.

Her mother waited for her, in the parlor, purse in hand. Her father as well, which surprised her, for he should have been visiting one of his ministry friends. They were talking in heated tones, and the three teenagers could clearly hear every word.

"I can't believe that they started it up again William!" her mother hissed softly.

All three teenagers froze, curious to what it was. Hermione spotted out of the corner of her eyes the Marauders, leaning on the other door of the parlor, out of sigh from the two adults and curious lights in their four pair of eyes.

"There, there Bea, you worry too much, you know that they changed so that it won't affect them." soothed her father, touching wife softly with his knuckles in a gentle, loving movement.

Her mother leaned into the touch, and Hermione felt her heart ache, missing such touches herself as her mother let out a heavy sigh. She touched her husband's hand with her own veined one.

"I know, but you know our children! They get so stubborn, both of them! And they get into so much mischief, though I see James trying for this more than Hermione. Their clever enough to pull it off... Though I wouldn't put it pass James from trying to get Hermione to help him get in..." said Beatrice sharply.

Her father sighed, and he ran his spare hand through his thick, wild thatch of snow white hair, a nervous habit that he had passed down to both his children.

"I think that Hermione wouldn't help him. She's loyal dear, but she draws a line at such things."

Beatrice gave her husband a sharp look, pulling away from his hand.

"Do... Do you think Hermione herself would try?" she asked softly.

William was quick to shake his head.

"No. If anything, our Hermione is not a glory seeker, it isn't her nature to stand in the spotlight, no matter how hard anyone tries to push her into one. You know her Bea, even in your womb the girl has hidden herself! Didn't Albus have to send us personal owls just to see her record breaking grades, because she didn't want to outshine James this year for winning the cup?" he shot back.

Her mother sighed. And Hermione swallowed in embarrassment as all her fellow teenage spies turned to look at her. She hadn't wished for anyone to know that, for last year on the exams she had decided to go all out, trying to relieve the stress that was getting larger everyday to find a safe way to destroy the Horcruxes, as well as to find the remaining ones. She blushed as her best friends shot her hurt looks, and she looked steadily at her feet. She heard her mother sigh again. When she spoke, she looked back at the conversing adults.

"... I know Will, but... It's just... I can't help but feel as if... As if..." fumbled her mother, hands twisting.

Her father shot his wife a sharp look.

"As if what Bea?" he said, eyes narrowed.

Her mother sighed again.

"As if... As if Hermione is not meant for hiding in the shadows, but for the spotlight." she admitted softly.

William Potter tensed, and looked at his wife with a look as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"Bea! You know how Hermione is, she hates that!" he said, shocked.

Her mother shoo her head, eyes firm. Hermione herself felt her eyes swim with tears, and her stomach drop at her mother's word. Dread filled her being. She could feel the gazes of her friends and brother on her, but she kept her own on her mother's troubled face.

"Will... When I look at my daughter I swear sometimes that I can see someone who is so wise and old that it humbles me, and someone who has a great and terrible destiny. Hermione is different. She has been since she was born, and lately I've had a feeling that we are about to really see how different." finished Beatrice.

Hermione's fists clenched.

"She's a Potter, Bea, no great and terrible destiny that you think she will have change that... She's Hermione, and she will not be in this damn thing." said William tiredly.

Right then and there, Hermione couldn't help but feel as if her father was going to eat his words... Though she wondered just what this 'thing' was. It was then that Peter let out a mighty sneeze, just as Lily coughed. Hermione slapped her palm against her forehead as her parents caught them.

"HERMIONE OPHELIA POTTER!" "JAMES WILLIAM POTTER!" screeched both her parents at the same time.

Both Potter children glared at the respected give away from their friends, and walked forward to get whatever was coming to them. Their parents both went on for a while about the wrong of spying before the two peeved adults calmed down enough, for though Beatrice Potter was a quick fuse,(a trait passed down to her son and future grandson), William Potter was not. He was a true sight when someone did managed to anger him though Hermione as she watched his flush face.

"What did you hear?" he asked after a moment, finally calm.

Hermione, James, and their respected best friends shared a look, before shoving Hermione in front of them like a human shield. She herself couldn't help but feel like a sacrificial virgin as she explained:

"Nothing mum, dad... Just the last bit." she said softly, locking eyes with her mother's.

Her mother paled, and looked at her feet.

"I... I'm so sorry dear." she said softly to her daughter, reaching out to touch her soft raven hair.

Hermione couldn't stop the flinch that passed through her, and she ignored her mother's hurt expression, feeling guilty enough at the fact that her mother had been right.

"So, how's that pesky thing called Nar holding up?" asked gruff, now familiar voice.

Hermione looked over at Amanda Green, taking in her somewhat sharp featured face, which was all angles and her dark, piercing black eyes, heavily lashed and exotic. Her blonde hair was still short, though Hermione felt that it reflected the knew punk style. She frowned, adjusting herself on the stool she was currently on, waiting for both Severus and Lily to find their respected gifts for her, as she had turned fourteen just two days ago. The trio had planned this trip so that they could get their last minute supplies in June and so that her best friends do, as they put it: find an amazing gift with a wide magical selection before you go off to Hogwarts. She sighed, and answered Amanda with a slight frown on her face.

"I haven't seen him since we've gotten home in June... And I don't like it... I know that... That I'm running out of time, and the Fates won't be too pleased... But... I just... I don't know what to do!" ranted Hermione in a whisper, pulling at her hair.

Amanda let her rant for as second more with a impassive face:

"I've done this before, sure, but hell, I had two other people with me, and two were already done for me, in fact, I didn't do shit but gather information and run around with those two, I never destroyed one, yet its me they pick to handle this! God damn-it!" she said, slamming her fist into the glass case next to her.

Hermione felt a calloused, thin hand on her own hand, and she smiled gratefully as Amanda gave her a stern look.

"Calm it kid, your fine. If Nar is missing, then that means they have something to tell you." she said sharply.

Hermione took a breathe. She knew Amanda was right, and she loved the stern, gruff woman all the more for it. She had grown quite found of her over the past few years, and though Amanda herself would never admit it, Hermione had a feeling that she had grown on her fellow Ward as well.

"Thank you..." she said softly, smiling at the woman.

Dark eyes lingered on her pale face for a moment, before she pulled away her hand.

"You look pale." she stated bluntly.

Hermione shrugged.

"I always do." she said softly.

Amanda snorted.

"Get a bloody tan than." she snapped.

Hermione giggled. Both Wards were silent for a second, before the one of Faunous spoke.

"My Guardian asked me to get your signature." she said with a frown.

Hermione frowned as well, and took the quill when the older woman gave her it and spare parchment. Her pen, inked and ready hovered for a second, a splotch appearing on the surface as she looked into her friend's dark eyes.

"What for?" she asked in a curious voice.

Amanda's frown depended.

"Bloody twat didn't tell me."

Hermione looked at the splotched parchment.

"Should I sign it?" she asked softly.

Amanda looked at the dark mark as well, and felt an odd turn of her stomach happen as more ink dripped down on the paper, looking just like blood, though dark and much more sinister for it. She looked at the young woman before her, and couldn't help but wonder just what her task was, and just where she had come from. She had never told her, and something had always asked her, either her own somewhat harsh nature or the girl's dark sapphire and soulful eyes.

"Yes, or I'll never hear the end of it, if you please." she said in the blunt way of her's.

Hermione signed it in a quick practiced movement, ignoring the three spots and handing back both the quill to Amanda.

"Hope he just wants my autograph."she mumbled in bad taste.

Her fellow Ward laughed at that and pointed to the window of her store.

"There's your know-it-all friends, now scat kid, I have a business to run."

Hermione laughed, seeing that Lily and Severus where indeed in the window, loitering outside since they claimed to fear her gruff and tall friend. She guessed more than knew that Severus said that over and over to stay outside and alone with Lily a little longer every time they came to Diagon Alley.

"See ya Amanda, I'll write with much love." she said with a kiss in her direction.

The woman only flipped her the bird, slipping the signed parchment into her black robe's pocket. Hermione laughed, and stepped outside to meet her friends. As the hot humid summer air hit her flesh, she couldn't help but feel that ever present pair of eyes at the back of her neck. She frowned, and spent the rest of the last day of summer in a worried haze, just knowing that something was going to happen... And soon.

* * *

**AN: I do not own the magical and wonderful world of Harry Potter, shame on you for suggesting that and making me hope.**

**Anyway, I'm so sorry that I have not updated in so long, so really heavy stuff has happened lately, and frankly it just sucks. Anyway, I forced myself to finish this chapter, at 2:36 am... Yay! I really wanted to end this chapter on a different note, but, well, it wrote itself... Hmm, I wonder if you guys think the parts that are meant to be funny are funny? I have an odd sense of humor so I'm not sure that this is as funny as it should be? Is it? Another thing, do you guys like where this is going... Oh, and if anyone can guess what's going on next pm me, so that when people read the reviews they don't know! Anyway, thank you so much for putting up with me, and I hope I can write faster next time... Please review, and thank you for doing so.**

**~Peace,**

**Moon Witch**


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